Returning Home
by anotherwon
Summary: The Pevensies are pulled back into Narnia and Susan is reunited with Caspian after vowing to forget him. Meanwhile, Caspian attempts to rekindle his romance with the Gentle Queen but finds her changed and withdrawn. Rating changed to M for some disturbing scenes.
1. Chapter 1

AN: My first time writing a fanfiction as a result of running out of space in my head to document my stories. This story does not strictly adhere to any of the Narnia plotlines, movie or literature version. It's just a result of the rebirth of my Suspian ship and I had to immortalise it somewhere.

I don't own The Chronicles of Narnia, etc.

* * *

It was like falling in slow motion. She saw the sky, the beautiful strokes of white against a light blue canvas, and then she hit the water.

Despite the bright sun, the water was bone-chillingly cold and the impact sent daggers of pain shooting to her head. Her lungs burned and her clothes had already begun to weigh her down. She fumbled with the buttons of the coat she wore, the beautiful pale blue coat she bought with her first paycheck from the school, and let it fall.

Quickly, she swam to the surface, inhaling quick breaths when she broke through the icy water. Somewhere to her right, she began to discern her name being called, with great urgency, among the loud ringing in her ears. Turning her head frantically, she spotted Lucy bobbing in the water, waving her arms. Edmund and Peter were nowhere to be seen. She can't swim, Susan thought agitatedly. She can't swim and the current's too strong.

'Lucy! I'm coming!' She shouted hoarsely. She'd swallowed a great mouthful of seawater when she first fell in and her head now swam with nausea. Her throat stung with thirst but she pushed herself to swim towards Lucy, cursing her heavy dress along the way.

'Take my hand!' she yelled and Lucy clutched her hand fiercely. Susan tilted her head towards the shore and pulled Lucy with her. The sandy shore was so close, so close that she could afford to stand up and walk. Susan relinquished her hold on Lucy and pushed herself up when suddenly, she was yanked on her back and into the water. Lucy's horrified screams were quickly drowned by the echo in the water.

Something must have caught on my dress, Susan thought logically. It's not a creature that wants to kill me. She yanked the hem of her dress but it was too weighed down and she could feel her body weakening from the effort. Her throat closed up and she puffed one last breath before she closed her eyes.

* * *

'Lucy!'

Lucy whirled around in shock when she heard Peter call her name. From the woods surrounding the shore, Peter came crashing out, followed closely behind by Edmund and a group of soldiers. She tensed, wondering if she should run or if these men were allies.

'Lucy!' Peter was upon her before she could act and he gripped her shoulders, shaking her forcefully. 'Lucy! Where's Susan?'

Edmund stopped beside him, bending down to catch his breath. Behind him, one of the soldiers stepped closer towards them while the others maintained a respectful distance. Her eyes narrowed when she recognized the dark hair, the tanned skin and those strangely beautiful eyes.

'Caspian?' she whispered.

The man looked up and smiled. It was indeed Caspian, only he had aged as much as they had. The boy she had fought with those years ago had grown to be a strong man and a powerful king. How marvelous it will be when Susan sees him like this, Lucy thought excitedly. The thought of Susan finally had her turning her attention to Peter.

'Peter! Susan!'

'Where is she?' Edmund demanded.

'She saved me and she was pulling me to the shore, but something yanked her back into the water!' Lucy was on the verge of tears. 'I tried to go in after her but-'

'No, Lu. You can't.' Peter gripped her when Lucy made a weak attempt to crawl into the water. He turned towards Caspian. 'The waters lead to River Rush, doesn't it?'

Caspian nodded. 'My ship is anchored on the other side. We can search for her from there.'

* * *

Caspian stared into the water as if he could see right through it. The waters were moody today. The color had changed into a magnificent dark blue. He saw the beauty of the sparkling water but his mind conjured images of Susan's lifeless body floating among that bed of sapphires. His hands closed into fists.

He recalled seeing the two figures lying facedown on the shore. Their clothes were wet and foreign. Caspian had already drawn his sword when Peter raised his head weakly. He had frowned and stared at Caspian before murmuring, 'Ed, get up. It's Caspian.'

They had been trampling through the woods when they heard Lucy's scream. He did not know who ran first, him or the two brothers. As he ran towards the shore, he could only hear _her_ name mentioned over and over again in his head.

Let her live, Aslan, he begged. Do not be so cruel as to deny me my love when she has finally returned to me.

Suddenly, his eyes caught an odd shape resting against a boulder in the water. Water crashed against the boulder and the shape floated lazily, in danger of being pushed away from the boulder to be swept down the treacherous current.

He narrowed his eyes. It can't be. Limp, dark hair floating in the water, pale skin.

'Peter! Edmund! Lucy!' he roared at the top of his lungs. They clattered across the deck towards him and he pointed to the motionless figure. 'Anchor the ship,' he ordered his men brusquely.

'I'll go get her,' Peter volunteered, already shedding his jacket to swim.

'No.' Caspian rested his hand on his shoulder. 'Let me. You need to rest.'

'I'm fine-'

'Please,' Caspian murmured, hoping the High King understood the look in his eyes.

Peter nodded, stepping back. 'Be careful. The currents are too fast.'

Caspian nodded and lowered himself down. He had divested himself of his heavy chainmail and his sword. The light tunic was easier to swim in and he swam slowly, sticking close to boulders to avoid being swept away. He was so close now, so close to her, and she looked so pale.

Please, Aslan, he begged. Please let her live.

Gently, he caught her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her towards the bank. He laid her down on the sand and tenderly swept her wet hair away from her face. There was a bloody gash on her temple and he felt his chest constrict with pain. His fingers pressed against the pulse at her throat and he felt the weak thrumming against his skin. Exhaling in relief, he sank onto his knees beside and pushed his hands against her chest, forcefully expelling any salt water she might have swallowed.

'Come on, Susan,' he whispered desperately after his first fee attempts failed. 'Come on, my love. You can't leave me, not again.' Sweat beaded his brow and his arms ached from the strained motions.

Suddenly, Susan twitched and pushed away from him before violently retching in the sand. She tried to push herself up to her feet but the effort proved too much for her and she collapsed. Caspian caught her quickly and gazed down into her eyes that were fluttering shut.

'Caspian?' She whispered before she went limp in his arms.

* * *

Let me know what you guys think!


	2. Chapter 2

'Susan?'

My name, Susan wondered dreamily. Is that Lucy? Lucy! Oh, God! The water and Lucy was drowning-

'Lucy?' Her voice sounded rasped and weak to her own ears. She could see the slight figure approaching her and tried to sit up on the bed. The movement sent a wave of nausea roiling through her.

'Don't move,' Lucy admonished her gently. 'You're not well yet.'

'I was in the water,' Susan whispered slowly. 'I was in the water and I thought I was going to die and I thought you were-' Her throat tightened on her last words and Susan closed her eyes. 'How did I get here?'

Lucy rested her hand on Susan's pale cheek. Her skin was cool to the touch. 'Caspian saved you.'

'Caspian?' Susan attempted to sit up once more, fuelled by the shock that coursed through her body. 'Caspian?' Her brain began to document all the small details around her. The soft, silky material of the bedsheets and the pillowcases and the covers- Susan shook her head. She wasn't home. This was not home. Home was a small, cramped flat in London. Home was rough linen bedsheets that smelled like the rose water scent she used. These sheets smelled like lavender and were too rich and warm to be real. Slowly, she tore her gaze away from the bed and examined the room.

Calling it a 'room' belittled the grandeur of the chamber. It was massive and beautifully decorated in that distinctive Narnian way. Leaves and vines were carved into the wooden posts of the canopy bed. Up ahead, the stone fireplace was flanked by two stone does, rearing up with their little hooves to touch the sides of the fireplace. And flowers. Flowers everywhere she looked. Roses blooming out of the two marble vases beside the bed. Lilies strewn across the plush window seats. Gardenias spilling out of woven baskets on the stone mantel. Freesias fighting for space with peonies and hyacinths on the low marble table. And scores of other flowers whose names escaped Susan as she stared at them in wonder.

How could she have not registered the scent of these beauties? She who spent her weekends visiting various flower markets in London, a luxury she could never afford. Instead, Susan contented herself with studying floriculture and conversing with the florists, hoping one day to have her own garden with flowers blooming everywhere you could barely move. At these markets, some of the florists grew pleased with her, a young and beautiful woman who possessed such impressive knowledge of florals, and would give her their own flowers. Others told her to go bother another seller if she wasn't going to buy anything.

'Do you want to eat something?' Lucy hovered anxiously beside her.

Susan started and stared up at her younger sister, having forgotten her presence. 'Are we really in Narnia, Lu?' Lucy nodded, eyes mirroring the delighted disbelief in Susan's eyes. 'Really? Truly?'

'Really, truly.' Lucy caught her glancing in bewilderment at the flowers once again. 'Caspian brought these for you. The flowers,' Lucy clarified when Susan regarded her blankly. 'He remembers. She used to loved all the flowers in the land, he said. He asked me if you still did. He wondered if he should have flowers delivered to your room, so you'd be greeted by a pleasing sight.'

'And what did you tell him?' Susan caught herself clenching her hands into fists in anticipation.

Lucy shrugged off-handedly. 'I told him I am a pleasing enough sight.'

'Lucy Pevensie-'

'-and I told him I wasn't certain if you still love flowers but I said he could try.'

Susan frowned. 'But you know I've always loved them. Why weren't you certain?' This was strange. Lucy had always brought her beautiful fresh flowers when she visited her older sister in London.

'I was certain, Su,' Lucy explained patiently. 'I simply wanted to see if he would try. And try, he did.' She eyed the spilled lilies and tutted under her breath. 'The castle gardeners tear their hair out every time he visits the gardens. He's had about every petal in the palace gathered for you.'

Susan shook her head, suddenly overcome by an onslaught of emotions. Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked, wetting her lashes. 'This can't be real, Lu. It simply can't...' When she last left Narnia, she knew she wouldn't be returning forever. Susan, smart, practical Susan, had always been good with goodbyes. She thought she would accept the end of this chapter of her life calmly, with her usual poise. What she didn't expect was the crushing heartbreak and desperate longing that plagued her even years after the magical country closed its doors on her. She didn't expect the taunting dreams that cruelly fed memories of Narnia into her head. She didn't expect the dark nightmares that had her waking up, sobbing at the loss and the pain.

Waking up like this seemed like the start of one of her dreams and she was very well acquainted with how those ended.

Lucy, oblivious to the haunted look in Susan's eyes or the tears that glistened on her cheeks, sauntered to the lower marble table. There, she selected an apple from the overflowing basket of fruits and polished it on her sleeve. 'He sent these, too,' she said as she munched on the crisp fruit. 'He will probably come-' Lucy had turned around, another apple in hand for Susan, when the look on her sister's face had her frozen in place. 'Oh, no! Su, why are you crying?' Lucy hurried to the bed and crawled beside Susan, already wrapping her arms around the older woman's waist. 'Don't, please don't cry.' A keening wail escaped Susan's lips and Lucy leaned back, startled. 'Ignore what I said. Cry all you want, Su.' The apples lay forgotten on the table, nestled amongst the flowers.

'I never thought I'd return,' Susan sobbed. 'I've longed for this place, I've dreamt about coming back and it's always just another dream and I'd wake up in that horrible flat and it seemed like a cruel joke someone was playing on me-' Her blue eyes swam with tears as she stared at Lucy. 'This is real, isn't it? We're all back in Narnia?'

Lucy nodded, close to tears at seeing Susan lose her usual composure. 'We're all back.' She gently wiped her sister's cheeks. 'Su, we're all home.'

* * *

Peter sighed and leaned back in the leather armchair. 'Nothing beats a good sword fight.'

Edmund looked up from the window seat. He had carelessly pushed aside the lilies that occupied the seat, sending them tumbling down onto the stone floor, until Susan fixed him with a glare that had him hastily gathering the flowers. 'Nothing beats _me_ in a good sword fight.' He closed his eyes and grinned. 'Not even High King Peter, the Magnificent.'

Peter's eyes flashed with humor. He had long since accepted that Edmund was, _at times_ , a more capable swordsman than he was and they had both kept the rivalry between them alive for their own amusement. 'I seem to remember a particular duel when a certain King of Old tripped over his own sword…' Edmund reared up, preparing to deliver his own salvo.

'Oh, stop it, both of you,' Lucy snapped. She carefully balanced the soup tray on Susan's lap. 'Here. Something to tide you over until dinner.'

Susan stretched languidly and inhaled the fragrant smell of soup and freshly baked bread. 'I'm absolutely famished; I could eat a whole cow.'

Edmund snorted and strolled over, hopping onto the bed and ignoring Susan's frown. 'Someone should tell Caspian Su's up. He's been fretting over you these past couple of days, I thought he might sprout some grey hairs.' He threw the flowers blooming all over the chamber a disgusted look. 'And maybe he'll stop sending you all this…nonsense if he knows you're awake. The smell of these plants will be the death of me.'

Susan swallowed the chunk of bread and fought to keep the blush from her face. 'Couple of days? Have I been unconscious for that long?'

'Give or take.' Peter pushed the armchair closer to the bed and eyed the tray of food hungrily. 'Listen, Su. I know this is too much to ask, what with your condition, but…may I please have a piece of bread?' His eyes widened pleadingly, lips pursed in a begging pout. Lucy dissolved into a fit of giggles and Susan smiled indulgently, tossing him a piece from the mound of warm bread.

'And that's for you, too,' Susan said archly, tossing another to Edmund, who caught if deftly. 'Honestly, I don't know how men can eat so much and not have to fret about their figures.'

'My corset helps,' Edmund quipped, grinning with his mouth full, much to the delighted disgust of the women. 'Does Caspian know?'

'I told him you were awake,' Lucy volunteered when Susan found herself intently studying the soup spoon. 'He said he'll come to visit you in a while. He wanted us to have some time with you.'

'Good man,' Peter nodded approvingly. He stared down at the heel of the bread in his hand. 'You're alright with seeing him, Su?' Susan looked up into her brother's concerned gaze and she felt the love she held for her siblings warm her. 'You'll tell us, won't you, if you don't want him in here?' Peter continued, already assuming a protective stance. 'He has already been in here of course, but I can-'

Susan finally registered this new piece of information. 'Caspian has been in here? He's been…visiting me?' she blurted out.

'Of course.' Lucy watched her, sly as fox. 'Who do you think brings the flowers?'

Of course. Of course! Susan could have smacked her head for being slow in gathering her wits. 'I don't mind him visiting me,' she heard herself saying faintly. 'I haven't seen him in ages. It would be…nice to talk to him.' She cleared her throat awkwardly, aware of the knowing looks her siblings exchanged.

'Alright.' Peter stood up and pushed the armchair back to its original position. 'Ed and I have important business to see to and you need to rest some more, Su.'

Lucy bent down and gathered the tray. 'We'll come visit you later,' she assured Susan, kissing her sister's cheek. Catching the anxious look in her sister's sapphire eyes, she bent down to whisper in her ear. 'He'll come see you, don't worry.'

Susan watched the heavy doors close behind her siblings. Her stomach was comfortably full with the food and she felt drowsy. Her lids warred with her consciousness, battling for sleep as she fought to stay awake. Caspian might come to visit her at any moment and she didn't want to miss him.

No, she's missed too much of him.

She fought the drowsiness and the lingering fear. _Did_ she want to see him?


	3. Chapter 3

Susan woke up with a start and tried to find her bearings in the darkness. Her body had expected bright sunshine to stream into her room, the way her mornings started in her London flat. This room was, however, shrouded in absolute darkness. A dawning realization occurred to her. Darn it all! She had fallen asleep after all.

'Susan?'

Susan jumped at this unfamiliar voice whispering her name affectionately, as though he knew her. She shivered, for her name sounded like a loving caress in his voice and that...accent.

'Are you cold?' he asked her.

She shook her head, and then it occurred to her that he can't see her, and her him. 'Who are you?' she rasped. Blushing, she cleared her throat.

'You must rest your voice,' the man advised her. 'The doctor said you swallowed too much salt water.'

She waved away his concern dismissively. 'Who are you? Light the lamps so I can see you.' She knew perfectly well who this unknown man was, but she had to see him with her own eyes.

The man paused as if unsure how to proceed, and then began lighting the lamps in the room. When he was finished, she noticed him standing silently at the fireplace with his back to her. She examined the plain tunic he wore and the worn trousers. His hair was dark and the glow from the lamp brought out the rich brown tones. He had grown so tall, she wondered longingly. Her hands itched to stroke his hair, to see if it would feel the same under her fingers after all these years.

It was too difficult to say his name. The name that brought her pain in the days after she returned to England. The name and the face that haunted her at nights, that caused her to withdraw into herself, that made her refuse the attentions of other men as she grew up. That name that her siblings had been so careful not to utter around her, despite her insistence that she had forgotten him.

'Caspian?' she whispered.

Caspian immediately turned around at the sound of her voice calling his name. A strange surge of energy flowed through his body and he fought to compose himself. Although he wanted to shout at the beams of the castle, announce to the world that she still remembered him even after all that time, this moment called for solemnity. The King of Narnia quickly adopted a grave expression as watched her carefully for her reaction.

'Yes?' he murmured.

Her eyes are so blue, he wondered. Susan had changed since he last saw her as a young girl. She'd grown, now a tall, slender and undeniably beautiful young woman. Her hair was longer and seemed even darker, bringing out her lovely porcelain skin. All the flowers in the bedroom, no, all the flowers in Narnia, could not compare to the beauty of the woman before him.

'Why are you staring at me like that?' she asked him bluntly and he blushed at being caught.

'I…'He swallowed nervously. 'You…you've- You look different.' She raised her eyebrows. 'Different in a good way,' he amended hastily.

She smiled. 'You do, too.' He did indeed. Caspian was still as handsome as she'd remembered him, maybe even more, for her memories had become imprecise as the time went by. Now, he had a different, rough quality to him, that of a seasoned warrior. His dark brown eyes held a cunning intelligence she attributed to his kingly status and, she noted with pleasure, genuine concern for her.

'You remember me?' His eyes widened with shock, as he had not completely absorbed the idea that this woman would still remember him. She smiled and he melted. Her smile, he thought, her beautiful smile is my downfall. 'Of-of course, you remember me,' he stammered. 'I wasn't implying that I am so unforgettable, Your Majesty, but you remembered my name and called me earlier so of course, I should have…known that you'd remember. If you remembered my name,' he finished pathetically.

'Of course. I remember you, King Caspian,' she replied softly. 'How can I not?' How could she not? She cleared her throat nervously when he held her stare for far too long that it almost crossed this side of impropriety. 'Lucy told me you saved me,' she said, looking down at the lace on the blanket. 'Is this…are we in your castle?'

Caspian shook his head, rousing himself from her blue-eyed spell. 'In my castle,' he repeated foolishly. 'Yes. Yes, we are, Your Majesty.' He blushed, thinking he sounded too arrogant with this proclamation of his ownership. 'Your siblings have settled into rooms near yours, so you need not worry about being too far from them.'

'Yes, they came to see me earlier.'

'They wanted to come and visit you again, but I managed to distract them with my newly restored armory.' He smiled fondly at the memory and Susan found herself openly staring at the slight dip in his chin. 'Lucy seemed particularly keen on my collection of daggers.'

She looked up at him, frowning. 'Why did you have to distract them?'

Caspian blushed at his slip of the tongue and Susan had to bite her lip from smiling at the delicate flush that bloomed under his tanned skin. 'Well, I knew they itched to practice some sword fighting,' he rambled, 'and the dwarves had fashioned some new swords and armors for my men, and we've developed some interesting new defense tactics and I…I…' He rubbed the back of his neck, speaking to his shoes now. 'I…hoped to talk to you the moment you woke up.'

Susan's stomach chose that perfect moment to rumble rather loudly and she fixed a horrified look on him. 'I'm so sorry!' she whispered, embarrassed. 'I didn't- I ate before! Lucy brought me soup and bread and-' _Why am I telling him all this?_

He laughed uproariously and it occurred to her that she hadn't ever seen him laugh like this, like he had no worries in the world, when she was last here. 'Your Majesty was unconscious for two days. I'd be worried if you weren't hungry. Dinner will be served soon. Would you like me to send a tray up to you?'

'No!' She didn't like the idea of eating alone. 'Could we- I'd like to go down for dinner.'

He nodded. 'Alright. I expect Lucy is itching to talk to you again. I will see you at dinner, Your Majesty.' He hesitated on his feet, wondering if kissing her hand before he departed was too forward. He settled for a stiff bow, much to her disappointment, before closing the door behind him.

* * *

Susan collapsed onto the bed, covering her face with her hands in mortification.

'No!' she groaned.

She was perfectly certain that he'd been about to tell her something…something important. She had to go and ruin the moment with her embarrassing stomach.

A horrible thought crossed her mind and she sat up, ignoring the slight nausea. What if- What if he'd been about to tell her that he had someone now? What if he'd been about to tell her he was engaged or married? Lucy had mentioned someone when she and Edmund came to see her in London, after they'd returned from their last journey to Narnia. A lady, some star or whatnot, and Lucy had been hinting delicately that Caspian seemed quite taken with her. Her family was worried that she didn't want to settle with any of the men who met her father to seek her hand and Lucy wanted her to forget Caspian. What if he was married to that star?

'A bloody star, for God's sake!' she buried her face in the pillows to muffle her screams. That woman no doubt had beautiful silvery hair and silvery eyes and other beautiful star qualities. And Susan, a mere mortal with drab black hair, was no match for this unknown lady who can probably glow at her whim.

'Susan?'

Lucy stepped into the room warily. Caspian had delivered the news that Susan was up and she walked into the room, only to be greeted by Susan lying facedown on the bed. 'Are you alright?'

Susan sat up. 'Dinner,' she uttered.

'Yes.' Lucy watched her anxiously. Had something happened between her and Caspian? Susan didn't seem like her usual graceful, cool as a cucumber self. 'Dinner is in a few minutes.'

'Do I have anything to wear?' Susan eyed Lucy's lovely red dress in envy. 'I need to wash my face. I need to brush my teeth.' Susan stumbled off the bed and gazed around the room frantically.

'Are you alright?' Lucy watched her soak her face into the basin of cold water and come up sputtering. 'Did you talk to him?'

'Yes.' Susan wiped her face hurriedly. 'Lucy, I need something to wear for dinner.' Her eyes were feverishly bright.

'There are some dresses in the trunk…' Lucy threw worried glances at Susan as she pulled out a midnight blue dress from within the marble trunk. 'Here,' she shoved the dress frantically to stop Susan, who was pacing restlessly around the room. 'Are you sure you're alright? Would you like to have dinner in here instead?' Lucy watched Susan struggle with the laces before giving up. 'We can eat up here with you. Peter, Edmund and I.'

'No!' Susan gritted her teeth as she yanked a silver backed brush through her hair. 'No, I need to come down for dinner. I need to know.'


	4. Chapter 4

AN: So I've just realised how addictive writing fanfic is and I can't seem to stop.

Much love to those of you who read/are reading my very first fic. Do let me know what you think of my attempt!

* * *

Caspian sat at the high table, anxiously fidgeting with his stiff tunic and vest. He had immediately decided to throw a hasty feast to celebrate the Kings and Queens of Old when Susan decided to come down for dinner. Although this meant more work for the kitchen, everyone was glad to finally give the Pevensies the welcome they deserve. The entire castle was eager to see them and, despite them having been here for three days now, his people weren't satisfied until they could see all four of them, for full effect. Peter was seated on his right and Edmund on his left, with Lucy taking the seat beside Edmund. The seat beside Peter remained conspicuously empty and even though Lucy had assured him that Susan was coming down, he couldn't help but feel nervous as the hour grew late and the chair remained empty.

Caspian had taken extra care with his dress, taking out one of his best suits and tunics and even brushing his hair out to impress Susan. His appearance before her in her room had been slovenly, as he had immediately come after attending to his warriors' training, and it didn't help that Susan was beautiful in whatever she wore. Caspian's cheeks grew hot at the thought of Susan, beautiful in whatever she didn't wear.

Stop this, he scolded himself. She is a lady, and a Queen, and you will treat her as such.

'What do you think, Caspian?' Edmund prodded him.

Caspian looked up and became aware of Peter's expectant look. 'I think it's a good idea,' he replied casually. Edmund raised his eyebrows and Peter seemed like he was having difficulty holding back his laughter. What was the question?

'You think Peter beating me at sword fighting is a good idea?' Edmund asked him slowly, obviously enjoying Caspian's discomfort. The Just King was younger than he was and yet, the look in his dark eyes managed to unsettle Caspian with its intensity.

'Well.' Caspian looked at his full plate. There really was no way he could wriggle out of this, not when the two brothers were against him. 'I think-'

A slow hush filled the dining hall and both Edmund and Peter looked up, distracted from tormenting him. Their gazes were fixed on the massive doorway. Caspian frowned, followed the line of their worried looks, and froze.

Susan was walking into the dining hall and when the gazes of its occupants swung towards her, she froze, as if contemplating escape. Caspian watched her raise her chin after the briefest of pauses and walk gracefully down the length of the chamber. Her long, black hair was brushed and curled gracefully down her back. The dark blue dress she wore made her seem like an ethereal being, a goddess who belonged in the waters. She was pure grace and perfection and he knew others shared this sentiment, judging by the awestruck looks many, especially men, wore.

'Come, Susan,' Peter beckoned her towards the empty chair by his side. She sat down, folding her hands on her lap. A servant hurried forward to place a full plate before her and the boy trembled when she smiled at him. The conversation in the hall resumed slowly.

'What did I miss?' Caspian heard her ask Peter. He cursed his position that placed him in this chair that was too far away from her.

'Not much,' Peter quipped. 'Caspian here was just saying that I'm a better sword fighter than Edmund is. Right, Caspian?'

Caspian grinned and stole a quick look at Susan, expecting her to smile at him, to say something witty and absolutely charming. Instead, she smiled politely and picked at her food. Peter frowned, apparently noticing this odd reaction from her.

'You feeling alright, Su?' Peter touched her forehead gingerly.

'I'm fine,' she replied. 'I'm just not feeling quite…myself yet.'

Peter nodded sagely. 'Thank God Caspian was there when we arrived in Narnia. Imagine what could have happened if he wasn't there!'

There was a pregnant pause. 'Yes, imagine that.'

Caspian frowned into his soup. Why did Susan seem so cold and detached when the conversation turned towards him? Had he offended her some way? Their conversation in the bedroom had gone well, despite his blathering. She seemed pleased to see him and he was definitely pleased to see her. Why this distant reception?

'I had some trouble finding my way here,' he heard Susan tell Peter. 'I'd forgotten what a giant this castle is!'

'You should have seen Lucy on the first day,' Peter told her, chuckling as he cradled a goblet in his hands. 'Caspian here had to draw her a map and you should have seen what an abomination the map was!' Again, Caspian perked up, expecting Susan to say something, _anything_ , but she simply made a small noise of assent. Peter watched her carefully and traded worried glances with Caspian.

 _Did I say something wrong?_ his look said.

Caspian shook his head and tried his hand. 'When you're feeling much better, Your Majesty,' he hedged, leaning forwards in his seat to get a good look at Susan. 'I could show you the castle grounds.' Peter smiled encouragingly. 'We have a magnificent archery range. You could teach me how to use a bow and arrow properly.' The smile on Peter's face was replaced by a look of abject horror. Caspian felt dread building up in his stomach as he slid his gaze from Peter to Susan, who was frozen in the act of spooning her broth.

'That's a nice offer, Su,' Peter exclaimed brightly. 'I'm sure you'd like to-'

'I'm afraid I've abandoned that sport, King Caspian,' she interrupted coolly. 'I'm sure you're better than I am at archery now, anyway.'

'Susan,' Peter muttered through clenched teeth.

'Peter,' she replied bluntly. Their gazes held in a short internal debate before Peter turned his attention to Caspian.

'I'd like to see more of the grounds actually, Caspian. It seems you've done plenty to restore it,' Peter spoke conversationally, as if nothing had happened. 'I'm sure Lucy and Edmund would like to join me. The pavilion's new, isn't it?' He helped himself to a generous helping of roasted bison.

'Yes, it is,' Caspian replied distractedly. He cast an anxious glance at Susan over Peter's back. 'I was inspired by the white pavilion at Cair Paravel.' He made sure his next words were clear enough to reach Edmund, Lucy and especially Susan. 'I have been making plans to restore Cair Paravel. I thought since the four of Your Majesties are here now, you might like to have a say in the reconstruction. It _is_ your home.'

Edmund's eyes brightened at the idea. 'We would love to be involved. That is an...impressive undertaking, Caspian.' His eyes grew distant with nostalgia. 'How I would love to see our home again, in all its former glory.'

Lucy had eagerly leaned across Edmund, pushing her older brother back. 'When do we start? Have you started anything? You must include the Faun's Wall, of course. And the Hall of Dryads?'

Peter laughed as Edmund pushed her back. 'Calm down, Lucy. You'll be able to voice your opinions when we start.' He cast a quick glance at Susan, desperate to bait his sister into the conversation. 'When _do_ we start?'

'Well, we've begun some of the plans. I shall show them to you tomorrow.' Caspian became aware of Susan listening intently to the conversation. 'There are some details that my advisors have been reluctant to implement in this new construction. The West Library, for example. They wonder if Cair Paravel really needs more than one library.' He waited patiently.

The West Library was Susan's favourite place. In their short time together in the past, she'd told him about the wonders of Cair Paravel, including the library that faced the west. As she spoke, he would begin to imagine the library, putting together the pieces as she described them. Tall windows with intricate glass etchings that opened to the sea. High ceilings with a frieze of Narnians frolicking against a pale sunset background. Tall driftwood bookshelves that held many ancient tomes. Cushioned window seats, where she liked to sit and watch the ebb and flow of the sea. A cupola that topped the library, with a mural of a resting lion at the centre. Caspian waited for Susan to explode.

He didn't have to wait long. 'You can't not include the West Library!' Susan exclaimed indignantly. Her siblings looked startled at her outburst, except for Peter who darted a knowing glance at Caspian. 'The West Library is an integral part of Cair Paravel! It housed lots of important books on Narnia!'

'My apologies, Your Majesty,' Caspian replied smoothly. Angry Susan was better than Uninterested Susan. 'My advisors say that the new library will be able to house all the books in Narnia. They wondered if the West Library should be transformed into a wide balcony.'

'A wide balcony?' An angry flush had begun to travel up Susan's neck to her cheeks. 'And what did you say?'

Caspian shrugged. 'I have yet to inform them of my decision but a balcony seems rather practical.'

'Rather practical?' Caspian hid a smile. This 'news' seemed to have rendered Susan speechless to the point of repeating his words. 'A library would be rather practical. A room for books would be rather practical. A house for knowledge and learning would be rather practical.' She fixed Caspian with a disbelieving stare, meeting his eyes for the first time since she entered the dining chamber. 'I thought you knew how much the library meant to me,' she continued softly, disappointment colouring her voice. Her siblings shifted uncomfortably in their seats, sensing they were intruding something private between the two.

'I will go join the soldiers, I think,' Peter declared loudly, cutting through the tension. 'I have much to ask them about the armoury and the training grounds. Ed?'

'Huh?'

'Come join me?' Peter requested forcefully, looking pointedly at Susan.

'Ah. Right. Yes, I will.' Edmund drained his goblet in one go and pulled Lucy to her feet. 'Lucy, why don't you go-' He paused, at a loss as to what Lucy should be doing instead of hanging around the high table.

'-talk to the women about their herbalism secrets,' Lucy supplied helpfully. 'I will do exactly that.'

'Right.' Peter clapped Caspian's shoulder and winked at him. 'Keep Susan company, will you?'

Caspian didn't miss the way her spine stiffened at Peter's departure and he exhaled heavily. The chair between them was an unwanted gap and he slid onto it, aware that the entire court knew of his history with the queen. She didn't turn away for him but eyed him warily.

'I do know how much the library meant to you,' Caspian murmured. 'In fact, the library was the first room I drew plans on. I simply wanted you to join the conversation.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'You wanted me to talk to you?'

'Yes.'

'So you tricked me?'

'Yes.'

'Do you feel guilty at all for causing me such distress?'

'No.' His grin was quick and boyish and she found herself smiling reluctantly. 'How are you feeling, Your Majesty?'

She sighed and made a show of mulling over his question. 'Fine.' His mouth quirked at her answer.

'Are you…finding the accommodations to your taste?'

That managed to coax a full grin out of her. 'I live in a cramped flat in a godforsaken part of London. My room here could fit my entire flat, Caspian. How can it not be to my taste?'

'Thank goodness. I lost sleep thinking how I could make my paltry castle suitable enough for a Queen.'

She lifted her chin. 'Well, your sheets are a bit too rough for me. A Queen should only sleep on pure silk.'

Laughing, Caspian turned his body completely to face her. 'Pure silk? I shall see what I can do, Your Majesty.' She looked up, her blue eyes alive with laughter and he captured the image in his memory. Suddenly, her eyes darkened and the easy smile disappeared from her face. She turned her face away from him, but he caught the flash of pain before she hid behind a curtain of her dark hair.

'Susan? What is it? What's wrong?' He touched her shoulder and she tensed.

A peal of delighted laughter drifted towards them and Susan looked up at the sound. Her eyes narrowed at the woman whose laughter had enchanted those around her. The daughter of the star, Lilliandil, was sitting amongst her admirers. She looked exceptionally lovely tonight, with her silver hair curling softly about her face. Caspian raised his head and saw Susan watching him, her eyes cold and devoid of any emotion. She dropped her gaze and gently nudged his hand off her shoulder. He let it fall limply to his side.

'Susan-'

'I'm feeling quite exhausted now,' she replied coolly. 'I think I'll retire early.' She pushed the chair back and he stood up hastily. Unable to think of anything to say, he watched her embrace her brothers and kiss Lucy goodnight. The hall seemed so much colder as the doors closed behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Susan was seething as she stripped the gown off and tossed it on the armchair by the fireplace. Her fists clenched with the overwhelming need to throw something, anything, but placid Susan couldn't even bring herself to do that. She'd always found obvious displays of anger distasteful, but right now, she found herself wishing she could be one of those loud women who could take their anger out on anything. Susan managed a pathetic kick on a chair leg and winced at the throbbing pain.

The way he looked at her, the way his eyes softened with affection. Susan snorted in disgust, crossing her arms on her chest. Who wouldn't gaze at the daughter of the star as he did? She was ridiculously beautiful and she was the daughter of a _star_ , for Heaven's sake!

Susan wiped angrily at the hot tears on her cheeks and exhaled shakily. Honestly, she wasn't even angry at Caspian. Not anymore. Confronted by the silence in her bedroom and the overwhelming loneliness, she began to see that her anger was directed at herself, at the deep embarrassment that she had even bothered to dress up for Caspian when she could never compete with a woman like that. When it was obvious that he only had eyes for that star.

'Who am I kidding?' she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. How could she have expected Caspian to still hold a candle to her after all this time? Unlike her, who clung to her love for him desperately, he must have gotten over her the moment he realised she wasn't coming back. She couldn't fault him for that. He _was_ a king, after all, and he needed heirs for the kingdom. It was only logical that he loved another woman. _Logical_. Logical Susan was the odd one for refusing other men's attention, irrationally convinced somehow that Caspian will come for her.

She picked up a brush and began to comb her hair vigorously, hating how dark and dull it was. She never used to hate her hair. In fact, she'd always thought it her best feature. She'd often received compliments and one of her former admirers, a romantic Scottish poet, had even written an ode to her ink black hair. It had taken one man to undermine all that and she felt pathetic for even thinking about him. Overwhelmed, she buried her face in her hands and allowed the tears to flow.

She hadn't ever allowed herself to fall under a man's spell, not after leaving Narnia and Caspian. James was the exception, only because he'd reminded her of Caspian with his dark good looks. After that colossal mistake, she'd promptly built a wall around her, coolly rejecting any advances. Now, Caspian had effortlessly broken that wall and in that short span of time they spent talking in the room and dining hall, she foolishly allowed him to enter her heart. The pain she felt now was hell compared to what she'd gone through. She had no practice with emotions, no preparation against this onslaught of hurt, and she was consumed entirely.

Outside in the hallway, she heard voices that she recognized immediately as her siblings. Realising that they might come into her room to check up on her, Susan immediately covered the lamp and dove under the covers.

There was a tentative knock at the door and Susan froze. The door opened and Lucy peeked in. 'Su?' Edmund murmured something behind the door and Lucy retreated, closing the door softly. Sniffling, Susan wiped her runny nose on the soft sheets, Caspian's soft sheets, she thought nastily, and pressed her face into her pillow.

She cannot stay here and let her heart be trampled to pieces. She had to leave.

* * *

Caspian stayed up well into the night. He sat in his arm chair, staring into the fire, wishing the blazing embers could tell him what he did wrong to anger her so. Susan was terrifying in her rage. She never raised her voice, mostly because she never needed to; everyone always listened to her. In her rage, she'd simply remain stoically silent and cold and it burned him more.

Groaning, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Was it because he had looked at Lilliandil? Was Susan Pevensie, Susan the Gentle, jealous?

He had no idea how to handle situations like this. He knew how to shoot a longbow and a crossbow, could fight with broadswords and longswords, but he had no clue how to soothe an angry woman. The only obvious solution would be to talk to her, and her alone, without anyone else around them. The idea made his stomach churn with nerves. Of course, he'd actually have to get her to be alone with him and, at the rate he's going, he'd be lucky if she even wanted to stay in the same room with him.

 _There must be someone who knows how to handle a situation like this_ , Caspian wondered miserably. Someone who knows how to appease an angry woman. He imagined approaching this situation as he would approach a war. He could see himself gathering the lords and his advisors.

 _Well, gentlemen. Now that the boring talk is over, I have a very important question and I'd like each one of you to answer me honestly._

 _Yes, Your Majesty?_

 _How do I go about convincing Queen Susan that I'm still in love with her?_

 _Flowers, Your Majesty_ , he imagined Reepicheep answering with his usual gravity. _Say it with flowers._

Caspian laughed. _I must be losing my mind_. He doused the fire and slid into bed. He had to talk to her tomorrow. She would most likely try to avoid him but he had to corner her somehow and talk to her.

* * *

'I know you're here.'

Susan clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back her giggle as Lucy passed by her hiding spot.

They had taken advantage of the bright sun to play in the palace maze. Peter and Edmund were off gallivanting around the kingdom and she had it on good authority, Lucy's authority from Caspian's page boy, that the King was enclosed in an important meeting with his Telmarine Lords. Upon receiving this news, Susan had promptly grabbed Lucy from her room and the two took off for the gardens, where they'd woven crowns out of flowers and laid down in the grass. It had been ages since she last spent some time with Lucy and she found herself longing for the times when they would lie in bed underneath the blanket, whispering to each other.

'You couldn't do this in London, Su,' Lucy had pointed out the obvious. 'Imagine lying down in the grass in London. You'd end up catching some disease or other!'

And she was right. Not about the disease, although Lucy might have a point there, but about not being able to feel like this in London. In London, she had to be a serious schoolteacher. She had to wear stiff jackets and had to tie her abundant hair up into a sober knot on the back of her head. She had to count every penny she had and went to sleep worrying about everything: her parents, her siblings, her students, where her next meal would come from. The list was endless and when it ran out, she'd find something new to fret about. In Narnia, she could let her hair fall down and blow gloriously in the sweet-scented wind. She could wear loose robes and velvet dresses. She could sing and dance and run around laughing with Lucy and no one would tsk disapprovingly at her. She had absolutely no care in the world and most importantly, she felt safe.

 _This is what it feels like to feel safe_ , she wondered. _To not have to look over your shoulder every single time. To not have to wonder if the man who is offering you his umbrella has something else on his mind._

'Susan,' Lucy called her name in a singsong voice and Susan roused herself to reality. 'Come out, come out wherever you are.' Lucy's footsteps faded as she disappeared around a corner and Susan slithered out of the hedge. She ran silently, not bothering to check if Lucy had caught on. The wind stroked her face and played with her hair. Running like this, barefoot and with her hair streaming behind her and her crown of flowers perched proudly on her head, she found herself wishing she could stay here. The air smelled fresh and clean, with the sweet scent of flowers. Her feet reveled in the soft grass. No, Susan did not miss damp and rotten London. She twirled around giddily, allowing herself to feel young for once.

'Nice day, isn't it?'

She gasped and stumbled, almost falling into the grass had it not been for Caspian.

'What are you doing here?' She frantically extricated herself from his grasp.

'Enjoying the beautiful weather, of course.' He grinned. 'And Your Majesty?'

'They said you have an important meeting,' Susan exclaimed in disbelief. 'That you wouldn't be out for hours!'

Caspian shrugged, although he fought the rising disappointment at the realisation that she had only escaped her room once she knew he wouldn't be around. 'It ended early.' He took a step closer. 'I saw you in the gardens and I thought I'd join you. If Your Majesty doesn't mind, of course.'

'I-' She whirled around at the sound of Lucy's lilting voice. 'Oh, damn!'

Caspian snorted, shocked at her curse. 'Did you just-'

'Shh!' She gripped his arm and dragged him into a small, barely-there gap in the hedges, pushing him in despite his half-hearted protests.

'Why did you drag me in?' Caspian demanded in a hushed whisper.

'Because I know you! You'll tell her you saw me!'

'I would do no such thing,' he replied indignantly and Susan pressed her finger to his lips at Lucy's approach. She felt him stiffen at her touch and belatedly began to realise their scandalous position. There was barely any space between their bodies and she could feel every length of him pressed up against her. Her cheeks warmed and she made the mistake of looking up at him to see if he noticed.

The touch of her skin on his lips sent his mind reeling with chaotic emotions and he froze, willing his brain not to go to those dark corners of his mind. He stared at her as she bent her head, listening intently to Lucy's footsteps and oblivious to the effect her touch had on him. Suddenly, she looked up and their eyes met. He could feel warmth slowly coursing through his blood and he was thankful for the darkness of the leaves. Slowly, Susan withdrew her hand and, brushing aside the voices that warned him in his head, he caught it in his. Her full lips parted in surprise when he moved to thread his fingers through hers. He could hear her ragged breathing and his own harsh breaths. He bent his head, giving in to the magic of the moment.

'We can't,' she whispered. Their lips were so close, their breaths mingling in the air.

'Why not?'

You love someone else and I'm a mental shipwreck, she thought. She shook her head and yanked her hand from his grasp. Before he could comprehend what was happening, she darted out of the hedges.

'I see you, Su!' Lucy yelled.

'It doesn't count until you've caught me!' Susan's voice faded into the distance and Caspian stumbled out of the hedges. He sank to the ground and lay there, staring up at the bright blue skies. Now what?


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thank you _so_ much for the reviews, guys! Keep 'em coming :)

* * *

'Did something happen between you and Caspian?'

Susan stiffened and continued braiding Lucy's hair. 'Why do you ask?'

Lucy fiddled with a loose thread on her robe. Dinner was a tense affair, with the King and her brothers trying hard to draw Susan out of her shell. Nobody, not even Susan, could have missed the glances that Caspian frequently threw her way, glances that alternated between pining adoration and glum confusion. By the end of dinner, Susan had developed various creative manoeuvers to avoid him each time he tried to approach her. One even involved talking to Lilliandil who, Susan was dismayed to discover, was perfectly pleasant and well-mannered. After getting to know the daughter of the star and discovering that they shared similar literary interests, in the Narnian world at least, Susan couldn't even work up any female jealousy towards her. At least Caspian had wisely kept his distance then.

'You seemed like you wanted to avoid him,' Lucy murmured.

Susan took her time tying a length of satin ribbon around the tail of the braid. 'I think we should leave, Lu.'

'Leave?' Lucy turned around, aghast. 'Why?' she demanded. 'We haven't been here in ages and you want to leave now?'

'I just don't think-'

'You _are_ avoiding him!' Lucy grasped Susan's hands. 'Why, Su? Can't you see he's in love with you?'

 _No, he's not,_ Susan thought miserably. 'I don't want to encourage him.'

'Encourage him?' Lucy's voice became louder with disbelief. 'Susan Pevensie-'

'I don't want another James, Lucy,' Susan whispered. She couldn't bring herself to openly admit that she was jealous, it was too pathetic, so Susan gave her the other truth behind her refusal to allow Caspian any closer to her. Besides, Lucy was the only person she could ever talk to freely about James and she'd understand. 'I can't…I won't live with myself if that happened again.'

'Oh, Susan.' Lucy crawled onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Susan's thin waist. She could feel her ribs through the thin nightgown and Lucy sighed. Susan wasn't eating again. 'It won't happen. Caspian is a gentleman. We know what he's like, Su!'

'I know. I know that.' Susan shook her head. 'But I can't. I'm too…frightened. Whenever he gets close to me, I see James and I...' She laughed mirthlessly at the irony. 'Isn't it funny? I couldn't love James because of Caspian and now I can't love Caspian because of James.'

'No.' Lucy tugged at Susan's sleeve, trying to get her sister to meet her gaze. 'You couldn't love James because he was a bastard and a bloody coward-'

'Language,' Susan warned her half-heartedly.

'-and you _can_ love Caspian because you're both meant to be together!'

'You're quite... _determined_ to match us, aren't you, Little Lulu?' Susan teased her affectionately, eager to divert the conversation.

Lucy blushed. 'Of course, I am. And don't call me that. I'm not a child anymore,' she huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

'Alright. _Little Lulu_.'

Lucy smiled at seeing the darkness fade slightly in her sister's blue eyes. Too often she'd seen exhaustion and misery in those young eyes and Lucy's graceful fingers immediately stroked Susan's thin wrists soothingly, gliding over the garish scars that marred her perfect skin. It was an old habit, one she cultivated back home when she would lie beside Susan and imagine she still had her healing draught to chase the scars away. 'I wish you'd let me heal this for you.'

'No.' Susan gazed down at the ugly cuts; a painful reminder of the one time she tried to love. 'No, I need them.'

Lucy leaned back and cupped her older sister's face in her hands, noting that her cheekbones seemed so much sharper, more prominent. 'I hate him for what he did to you.'

A lone tear spilled down Susan's cheek and she let the tears fall unchecked. 'So do I.'

* * *

'Has something occurred between you and Susan?'

The hour was late and the three men were ensconced in Caspian's private study, where he had shown them some of the newly drawn up reconstruction plans for Cair Paravel. Edmund had noted the beautiful rosewood chess table and promptly challenged the King into a match.

Caspian looked up from the chessboard at Edmund, who steadily maintained his gaze on the game. Across the room, Peter looked up from the book in his hands and watched his younger brother cunningly steal another piece. Caspian knew, despite their composure, the brothers were tensed like coiled springs, ready to protect their sister.

'Every time you come into the conversation, she shuts up.' Edmund rested his chin on his hands, eyeing the board with that strange wisdom in his young eyes. 'Every time you enter a room, she leaves. Surely, you've noticed this.' He looked up. 'Your move.'

Caspian had the odd feeling that he wasn't talking about the chess match, but he dutifully moved another piece. Truthfully, his heart was not in the game anymore. When he next spoke, he chose his words carefully. 'I've tried to let her know of my affections, but Queen Susan refuses to talk to me and I'm not at all certain why.'

Peter stood up and promptly carried a small stool over to the table. The match resumed in silence. 'Remember when you came back from Narnia with Lucy and Eustace, Ed?' He suddenly spoke and Caspian almost jumped from the tension.

'Hmm,' the Just King replied. He obviously knew where this conversation was going but Caspian, kept in the dark, rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.

'And you told me that you had a guide, a beautiful woman.' Peter made a sound of disapproval as he watched Edmund move a piece on the board. 'The daughter of a star, you said. I've seen her in the castle. She is _rather_ lovely. And it seemed like you, Caspian, were also taken by her beauty.'

Caspian stiffened, feeling a strange flash of anger. 'What are you implying?'

'You came back for her, didn't you?' Edmund had abandoned any pretense of playing chess. 'After we left, you came back for her.'

'I couldn't leave her there,' Caspian replied curtly.

'Of course not.'

' _What_ are you implying?' he repeated forcefully.

'You're a man; we understand.' Peter raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. 'And when Susan and I left Narnia, we weren't supposed to come back. I understand if you've transferred your affections to someone else-'

'I haven't.' Caspian's nails dug into his palms.

'Caspian, please.' Peter sighed, running his hands through his hair. 'All we're saying is, it's perfectly alright if you love another woman now. You're a king, you need a family, an heir.' His kindly eyes suddenly darkened with fury. 'But do not tell Susan you still love her when you love another. You are free to court one or the other, not both, and if ever we find out that you've been doing this…' Peter let his threat hang in the air.

'You must understand something, Caspian.' Caspian looked at the younger brother now, feeling trapped by these two young men. 'Susan, she has been through too much for a young woman. She isn't the same girl you met ages ago. She finds difficulty in placing her trust in anyone, especially men.' Edmund toyed with one of his captured pieces. 'If she decides to place her trust in you and you ruin that, know that we _will_ protect our sister.'

'I've tried to talk to her but she won't listen.' Caspian found himself gesturing wildly with his hands to portray his desperation. 'She told me that we can't…we can't be together but she refuses to tell me why. You've seen how she avoids me. I sent her flowers but she refuses to even look at me and I'm-' He broke off, exhausted. 'I've tried everything. What else can I do?'

'Try harder,' Peter supplied bluntly, showing a frightening glimpse of the High King.

'Oh, and uh...checkmate.' Edmund grinned proudly, easily cutting through the thick tension. 'That's _three_ games in a row now, Your Majesty.'

Peter chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Here's hoping you're not as unlucky in love as you are in chess,' he remarked, all traces of anger gone from his demeanour.

 _Yes,_ Caspian thought, knowing he was safe, for now. _Here's hoping._


	7. Chapter 7

Hi! Thanks for all your reviews so far! They've been giving me just the right push to keep updating :)

So in this chapter we find out more about the elusive James and what happened between him and Susan. It was meant to be longer but I guess there's a word/size limit for stories? Changed the rating to M for some adult themes in the following chapters.

Hope you guys like it!

* * *

'Pick one. My treat.'

Susan stared up at James, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'No! They're all far too expensive.'

He laughed and the scar on his cheek, the one many assumed was a dimple, grew more prominent. 'Su, pick whichever ones you want and I'll buy it for you.'

'You'll waste your hard-earned money on flowers?' Susan frowned at the exorbitant price displayed clearly on the cards.

'Yes, Miss Pevensie. _My_ hard-earned money,' he replied, his tone a combination of sarcasm and charm that never failed to start a fluttering in her stomach.

'Fine. Your loss, my gain,' she replied, sauntering past him towards a display of exotic orchids. Her hat slipped and James caught it deftly, placing it on her head with a disarming grin. The laughter in his raw umber eyes disappeared as she held his gaze fractionally longer than she usually did.

'Have I told you how beautiful you look today?' he whispered, still holding on to her hat.

She smiled shyly and ignored the small flare of guilt in her gut. Now was not the time to think about another pair of dark brown eyes. 'Yes, but you're welcome to tell me again.'

He held her hands, eclipsing them easily in his large ones, and tenderly brushed his lips across her knuckles. 'You look breathtakingly beautiful today, Miss Pevensie,' he whispered. He leaned down, eyes closed in anticipation before Susan gently rested her hands on his chest. His breath escaped in a frustrated hiss.

'Not here,' she whispered, turning away from him in embarrassment. 'People will see.' Now was _definitely_ not the time to recall a different kiss in a different time with a _very_ different man.

' _Let_ them see,' he retorted, catching her wrist in his steel grip. He tugged her around forcefully, gripping her chin in his other hand, and Susan stumbled on her heeled boots.

'James, stop!' She pushed him away, eyes wide with shock and anger. 'What is the matter with you?'

His eyes flared with disbelief and resentment and Susan recoiled, preparing to knee him where it hurts, the way Peter taught her with a demonstration on poor Ed. She could feel her neck burning with embarrassment as market-goers eyed them openly with disapproval. Eventually, noticing the looks they were beginning to attract, he exhaled heavily and massaged his temples in an attempt to regain his composure. 'Forgive me, my dear,' he murmured after several heavy beats of silence passed between them. 'I don't know what came over me.' When he raised his head to meet her eyes, his face was pale and stretched taut with exhaustion.

Taken aback by the look of pure fatigue on his visage, Susan immediately forgot their brief spat. 'We can go back if you're not feeling well,' she suggested gently.

'No, I'm fine.' He attempted a weak smile. 'Come.' He offered her his arm, once again the very picture of a gentleman. Susan fought the crawling revulsion and nagging fear she felt at his touch and accepted his proffered arm. 'Let me apologize by buying out the entire market for you, darling.'

* * *

'How long is your furlough?'

'Two weeks.' James plucked a small daisy from the earth and pressed it between his thumb and forefinger.

Susan gazed at his profile that was outlined by the setting sun. He was an undeniably handsome man, with those vaguely Hispanic features that endeared him to women and men alike. He'd been a charming little boy and grew up into a popular man, never spending time with just one lady on his arm. Many in the neighbourhood often wondered, much to Susan's annoyance, how such a fine-looking and admired boy as him could ever be attracted to the oddly reclusive Miss Susan Pevensie. He's James Watts! He could have anyone, and while they grudgingly admitted that Susan was beautiful, a classic English rose, she doesn't seem like she has much to say, that poor girl! Always on her own, sitting quietly, _reading_. No, that Watts boy could certainly do better than fall in love with her.

And in love with her, he was. In the weeks before he openly courted her, he often dropped by the Pevensie family home, especially when Susan was visiting from university. He became fast friends with Peter, both boys sharing the same deep-seated love for motor cars, and Susan began seeing him everywhere. She'd leave the grocers and he would be there, taking the heavy bags from her arms and walking her home. She'd go to the library and he'd come in moments later, choosing a book at random and sitting several tables away from her, eyeing her surreptitiously as she read. He began to work up the courage to talk to her after the third grocers encounter.

At first, she responded to his questions in monosyllables, intent on rejecting yet another man, but something about his handsome tanned face and his dark hair made her cautiously drop her guard. _Perhaps he was sent for me. Perhaps this is a sign that I should forget_. She accepted his invitation to dinner the third time he asked, much to James' amusement.

 _Third time's the charm,_ he often quipped.

Her family had been secretly relieved that Susan was finally leaving her shell. She knew her siblings had been concerned when they would find her sitting on her bed, her eyes glazed as she recalled a fast-disappearing memory of a faraway land. _His_ name and her memory of him began to hurt less as she made new ones with this other man who worshipped the ground she walked on.

'Congratulations on your graduation,' James said, bringing her crashing back to the park. 'Peter showed me a photograph. I'm proud of you.'

'Thank you.' _Say it, Susan. Now._

'Here.' He held out a small box wrapped in rough brown paper. 'For you.' He was smiling expectantly, waiting for her to unwrap the box. Keeping her face free of any disapproval, Susan carefully tore off the paper and gazed at the pale blue box.

'If it's too expensive, I'm returning it,' she warned him.

'Can't. The shop closed down for good.'

'I'll pawn it,' Susan retorted, fiddling with the box. She had the sinking feeling that if she accepted his gift, she wouldn't be able to say what she came out here to say. Any woman would feel proud to receive gifts from James Watts, but all his gifts to her made her feel forcefully bound to him. As though he owned a bit more of her with every present. 'James, I can't,' she blurted out.

He raised one eyebrow, the one with the scar from a stupid barracks brawl. 'Susan, dear. It's for you.'

'No, no.' She thrust the box at him, swallowing nervously when he simply stared at her without taking the box. Quickly, she placed the box on the ground between them. 'James, I can't do this.'

'Do what, exactly?' She recognised the creeping anger in his voice, one that seemed to make an appearance even more so lately since he joined His Majesty's Armed Forces.

 _Say it, Susan_. She looked at him squarely in the eyes. 'We have to stop seeing each other.'

It was like a battle between them of who could hold the other's gaze for the longest time. Susan could feel her head growing light at the thick tension between them. Her palms felt clammy with sweat and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her dress. He'd notice and he'd pounce on that.

When had she stopped seeing James as a man and more as a dangerous predator? She supposed the signs were always there, the bruising grips, the sudden lashes of rage and explosive outbursts that could be triggered by the most trivial comments. The mark on her jaw when he'd been upset with her.

 _I tripped_ , she explained to her family. _I was careless and I didn't watch my step._ She'd smile, as if her clumsiness was amusing. No one questioned her because she was Susan.

She remembered his tears, those heartbreaking tears streaming down his face when she shrank away from him in fear. He'd been so miserable, begging for her forgiveness on his knees, and Susan vowed to hold on to him. She was determined to love this broken man, this person whom she was convinced was sent especially for her. She stupidly believed she could control him. Change him, even. She is, after all, a Queen of Narnia.

 _Was_ , a small voice mocked her.

He looked away first, looking down at the box. 'Is it...is it because of what I did?' he whispered. She saw him slump forwards dejectedly, like a puppy who'd been kicked far too many times. 'Because I can change, Su. I'm trying, I really am and every time I look at you and see what I did to your beautiful face...' He reached out to touch the yellowing bruise and Susan flinched. 'Please, Susan. Don't do this.'

'I'm sorry, James.'

'Is it another bloke?' His eyes darkened and she eyed his clenched fists.

'No, of course not-'

'Because I distinctly remember Peter saying something about another man you were hung up about,' he spat.

'Why would he say that?'

'He was drunk, Susan, and I asked him about you,' he replied impatiently. 'He told me you had to leave this man and your heart was broken and he blathered on about how you spent your days alone, no doubt pining for this man.'

'It's not because of another man, James.' Susan could feel her patience wearing thin.

'Tell me honestly, Su. I deserve at least that.' James leaned forward so she had no escape from his sharp gaze. 'Was there another man?'

'There was,' Susan answered. 'But it was before you came along. He's likely to have forgotten all about me.'

His lips, the ones that she'd often seen curled up into a beautiful smile, twisted into a jeering sneer. 'But you haven't forgotten all about him, have you?'

 _No. No, I haven't. I still lie in bed at night thinking about him. Sometimes I cry myself to sleep because the memories are too painful to bear alone._ 'I'm sorry, James, but we can't be together anymore.' She gazed down at the simple woven bracelet he gave her during the honeymoon of their relationship. 'Would you like your things back?'

He stared at her in disbelief, as if expecting her to grin at any time and say it was all a joke. 'No, keep them,' he finally murmured. Susan looked up, fully expecting another outpouring of anger, but he simply looked disappointed and exhausted. He bent down and picked up the box. 'Take this, too.'

'I can't-'

'It's meant for you,' he interrupted. 'Su, I hope…I hope we can still be friends after this.'

She smiled at him sadly. _Another one gone._


	8. Chapter 8

'Are you sure you'll be fine walking home alone?' Mrs. Miller watched worriedly as Susan neatly stacked a pile of books. 'Mr. Miller could drive you home, my dear. I don't like sending you out alone when it's dark outside.'

Susan smiled at the matronly headmistress. She'd been working at the local primary school over the summer, when the school held open classes for children, and it had been a refreshing diversion from the monotony of her home. She was also eager to escape her family's burdening concern when she finally told them she'd broken it off with James. The salary helped slightly, as she needed to pool together whatever she could save for when she moved to central London in a few months' time.

'I'll be fine, Mrs. Miller. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Have a good rest, love.' Mrs. Miller held the door open as Susan hefted her weighty satchel. 'I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early.'

Susan waved at the kindly elder woman and made her way home, cutting into a deserted alley in an effort to evade the nighttime drunkards at the pub. She knew James would be there at the pub, along with her no doubt inebriated elder brother. Despite James' wish that they'd remain friends, he had not spoken a single word to her whenever they happened to meet and gossipmongers began spreading tales about how callous Susan Pevensie had broken the poor boy's heart.

 _Which is true, I suppose,_ she wondered dejectedly. _I am callous when it comes to love_. _All because I can't forget one boy._

A clattering sound to her left had her jumping in fright and a man staggered up drunkenly from behind a pile of overturned crates.

'Susie!' the man slurred and Susan watched in horror as the dim light from the streetlamps shone on his face. 'I've been waiting for you!'

'James?' She shifted her bag in front of her, already fumbling inside the satchel for a weapon. 'What are you doing here?'

'I told you.' He stopped in front of her and swayed on his feet. His shirt was stained and untucked and Susan shrank away from the unmistakable stench of alcohol. 'I was waiting for you.'

'Why?'

'Why?' he mimicked her. His wide grin exposed his canines, reminding her of the vampires in those old penny dreadfuls. 'Because you can't leave me, Susie!' he shouted. 'You can't just dump me like I'm a- like I'm a common man! I'm James Watts, you see?' He brandished his fists and the bottle in his hand smashed against the wall.

'James, you're drunk. Go home.' Susan whirled around, ready to run, when he gripped a handful of her hair in his fist and pulled, hard. Susan screamed at the burning pain that tore through her scalp.

'You've always thought you were better than any of us, haven't you?' he snarled as he brought her face closer to his. 'You've always looked down your nose at us, at me. Always keeping to yourself because we're not worthy of your time. Isn't that right, Su?'

'No! James, stop-'

'You should be grateful I even paid attention to you, you bitch!' He slammed her against the wall, his fingers closing and squeezing hard around her throat. She choked and clawed desperately at his hands. 'Nobody leaves me, do you hear me, Su? _Nobody_ leaves James Watts!' Susan slammed her knee into his groin and he groaned, falling away enough for her to make her escape.

 _Forget your bag, Su. Just run!_ 'Help!' she tried to scream but all that came out of her mouth was a painful whisper. 'Help me!' she tried again and choked on her words when fingers caught on the back of her coat. She was yanked roughly back and slammed down onto the pavement. The flickering streetlights above her danced merrily, mocking her with their freedom, and Susan could barely register the pain behind her head. _I've broken something_ , she thought dizzily. _I've broken a lot of things_.

The lights were suddenly eclipsed by James, hovering over her with an excited glint in his eyes.

'Thought you got away, Su? Thought you got away from me?' He fisted the hem of her skirt and pulled it up, crudely parting her thighs. 'Don't you understand, Susie? You're mine. I'll _make_ you mine.' She struggled, thrashing against him when the cool night air chilled her bare legs. He growled and slammed his fist into her jaw. 'Stop struggling! You'll like it if you accept it. All the girls do.'

Susan closed her eyes against the pain, against his excited groans and primitive grunts. Tears of pain and revulsion pooled beneath her lashes. His hands groped her flesh and scratched her skin as though she was worth nothing. At that moment, Violet came unbidden into her dulled mind. Her friend Violet who was married with two daughters. Her friend Violet who had confided in her about the wonders of being married, the pleasures of sharing her marriage bed with a loving husband, of their first time together.

 _No,_ Susan wanted to wail. _It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to be lying, bleeding in an alley. How did this happen to me? What have I done to deserve this?_ She could feel him becoming more frantic, his grunts louder now, and Susan found herself begging to the name she has never turned to since she left.

 _Aslan, please. Please give me strength._

 _You've always had it, my dear Queen_. Her eyes opened at the masterful voice in her head, the voice that breathed light and life into the darkest corners of her mind. Her hands clenched and she twisted her head. _Anything you see, Su. Anything can be a weapon._ She located a small loose brick on the pavement. James was too involved in his own pleasure and she curled her fingers around it, hefting the weight in her hands.

 _Now._

She brought the brick down hard on to the back of his head.

'You bitch!' he screeched in pain, clutching his head. Susan saw the rivulets of blood dripping down his arm and she swung her fist into his nose. He stumbled back, colliding into a wall, and Susan stood over him.

'You're James Watts?' She held the brick over the opening in his trousers, over the evidence of his sickening lust. ' _I'm_ Queen Susan of Narnia.' Her fingers released their hold on the brick and she let it fall.

* * *

His howl of pain faded behind her as she ran down the alley. Her head spun and fought to shut down, to seek refuge in a corner where she could hide and fall to pieces.

 _No. I need help. I need someone who'll believe me, who'll know what to do._

Her hands were shaking as the shock of what had happened, what he'd done to her and what she did to him finally struck her. She should've smashed his manhood to pieces, that bastard! She should've used the glass from his beer bottle and cut him off, so he'd never be able to do that to anyone. She should've-

 _No use thinking about what you should've done. Think about what you need to do now_.

Susan hesitated briefly on her feet as she struggled to get her bearings. _Home?_ No, home was too far. She needed help now.

 _Mrs. Miller!_ Susan tore down the pathway, breathing heavily against the searing pain that gripped various parts of her body. The Millers lived right next to the school. _They'll help me. They'll know what to do._ Her feet ached and Susan became convinced that she'd twisted her ankle sometime in the struggle but she soldiered on, hobbling awkwardly when the pain became too unbearable. The school's distinctive entrance came into view, the same entrance she passed through as she left early that evening, without any knowledge of what would happen to her. Susan ran past, clambered up the steps to the Millers' and pounded her fists frantically on the door.

'Mrs. Miller!' she screamed. James had done his work on her throat and she found herself once more fighting to push air through the burning pain.

'What on earth-' she heard Mr. Miller grousing and the door flung open. His shocked eyes took in her bloodied appearance. 'Susan? What the hell happened to you?'

'Mrs. Miller-'

'In here, dear!' Mrs. Miller hurried into the hallway, frantically securing her bedcap. Her eyes widened in horror. 'Susan?'

'James,' she breathed. 'James…attacked me. He was waiting for me when I walked home and he…' She swallowed, shame flooding her at seeing the dawning understanding in Mrs. Miller's eyes. 'Please help me,' she whispered. 'I don't know what to do. I ran away from him and he's-'

'That bloody mongrel!' Mr. Miller snarled. 'Where is he, Susan?'

'The alley, by the grocer's. That's where he found- that's where he was-' She crumpled against the door and sobbed silently.

'Judy, take the poor girl in. I'll get some of the lads together.' He gently nudged Susan into the house. 'Don't worry, dear. We'll catch him.'

Mrs. Miller wrapped an arm around Susan, rubbing her back soothingly. 'I'll ring your parents, tell them you're here. Emily will be worried sick you're not home by now.' Susan let herself be led into a sitting room and sat down, listening absently as Mrs. Miller spoke to her mother on the phone in hushed tones.

'-best you come here…the poor girl's in shock…doctor…'

 _Doctor? Of course, doctor. A doctor to check if I'm ruined._

Susan collapsed onto the chaise longue, smothering her sobs in her arms. Her entire life was ruined. She was ruined. All of her dreams, her ambitions, they died in that alley. That independent flat in London, sitting at her desk and typing up her latest article at The Times, strolling down Oxford Street with her girlfriends, laughing about some boy or other, a ring on her finger, a beautiful white wedding with her family by her side. Those were all gone. After what he did to her...how could she live? How could she know how to live with this? She thought closing her eyes when James violated her would've made remembering harder. If anything, she recalled the sounds and his revolting touches with great clarity. Her nails dug deep into her skin and Susan clawed desperately at her arms, desperate to clean her skin of his scent and his touch.

'Susan! Goodness! You musn't do that!' Mrs. Miller caught her wrists in her surprisingly strong hands. 'Your mother and Lucy will be coming over soon, love. The doctor will also be coming over, to see if you're alright.'

'Father?' she whispered brokenly.

'Your father's gone with Mr. Miller. As have your brothers.'

Susan closed her eyes and tasted the salt of her tears on her lips. 'I don't want them seeing me like this,' she wept. 'It's shameful and it's revolting! I can still hear him-'

Mrs. Miller enveloped her in her arms, clutching the distraught young woman to her ample chest and her plump arms. 'Don't think about it, Susan. It'll be alright.' Gently, she began rocking her into oblivion, patting her back soothingly. 'It'll be alright, you'll see.' she whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

Susan woke up with a start, barely reining in her gasps. Her eyes groped the darkness of the bedroom frantically, and her disturbed mind made out monstrous shapes and shadows looming over her. Did something appear to be moving over there, near the armoire? Was that a figure of some night-crawler crouched out on the windowsill?

Susan hysterically swiped the air before her, as if to make sure no being, living or otherwise, was hovering over her. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the heavy iron candelabra sitting idly on the bedside table and tested its weight in her hands. Heavy enough, she judged. Her feet barely made any sound as she padded noiselessly across the chamber towards the wardrobe.

The candelabra prodded empty air where she could've sworn she saw a shadow move. The hairs on her neck rose and she swung around, her weapon once again finding nothing to attack.

The window.

She strode over towards that particular window, becoming convinced that something was waiting for her outside. As expected, the stunning view of Caspian's gardens and nothing sinister greeted her.

Susan expelled an exhausted breath. _I'm going mad_ , she thought. _I'm going completely and utterly mad._ The nightmare had shaken her. It's been ages since she last dreamt of that night, of James. Perhaps her unease at the sudden change in her life, being yanked back into Narnia when she was perfectly certain she would never return, had unearthed those memories she locked away in the deepest parts of her mind. That was where she locked memories of Caspian and of Narnia, and now that those recollections were pushed up to the surface, it seemed that other darker memories were following suit.

'Su?'

Susan whirled around at the small voice and found Lucy watching her like a startled fawn. Lucy had insisted they sleep together after their distressing conversation last night and no doubt Susan's prowling around the room had roused her. Lucy had always been a light sleeper; the merest sounds and movements could wake her up. Now, her wide eyes followed the line of her arm to the candelabra that Susan was gripping defensively.

'What time is it?' Lucy hesitantly asked.

Recovering, Susan placed her weapon on the nearest table, gritting her teeth when her fingers brushed against the silky lily petals, proof of Caspian's _affection_. 'It's…not dawn yet,' she answered. Her voice sounded odd to her own ears and she smiled reassuringly to Lucy. 'I was just reading,' she explained. 'And I needed some light.' She gestured pathetically at the candleholder that held no stub of used candle or a hint of melted wax.

'Will you be reading some more?' Lucy asked her, noting the obvious lie but leaving it.

'No, I think-' Susan stretched and made a show of yawning. 'I think I'll sleep now.' She walked towards the bed and slid under the warm blankets. ''Night, Lu.'

''Night, Su.' Lucy turned on her side, facing away from Susan.

It was a while before Lucy's breathing deepened, for her to relax and nestle deeper into the covers. Susan, meanwhile, found herself tossing and turning restlessly and alternating between glaring at the darkness and burrowing under the covers in fear of those phantom shadows.

'Goodness,' she groaned, frustrated after countless foiled attempts to sleep. The windows were gradually painted golden by the rising sun, her first in Narnia since she arrived. Resigned, Susan sat up and quietly eased off the bed, determined to not wake Lucy, even though she wished for company. She hurriedly cleaned herself and grabbed a dress at random, along with a thick cloak. Slipping silently out of the chamber, she glanced down the endless hallway. The servants were undoubtedly up by now, already busy with their tasks for the day. There can be no way to sneak out of the castle without one of them noticing her, or at least a hooded and cloaked figure with the Queen's stature and poise. When Lucy wakes up, finds her gone and runs to her brothers, they might mount a search party for her. God knows, her siblings probably thought her unstable and likely to throw herself into the first body of water, never mind the fact that she'd been well…enough until they returned to Narnia.

Susan stepped cautiously into the royal stables. The horses tossed their mane and gently stamped their hooves, attempting to wake up the only present stable boy who was dozing on a pile of hay.

Susan hesitated, unsure of Narnian etiquette after being away for so long. 'Sir?' She nudged the boy's foot. 'Excuse me, sir?' she repeated loudly.

The boy grunted and turned his head, glaring up at the person who dared wake him. His young eyes widened in shock and embarrassment and his sun-tanned skin burned pink. 'Your Majesty?'

'Good morning,' she greeted him pleasantly. 'I'd like to go on a morning ride.'

'Yes,' he answered blankly. He frowned, as if wondering why the Queen of Old was looming over him. Slowly, he took in his own position, sprawled over the hay as he was and disrespectfully causing the Queen to bend slightly in order to talk to him. He scrambled to his feet, brushing hay off his tunic. 'Your Majesty! I'm sorry! I was up all night- one of the horses gave birth and I-'

'It's alright,' she stopped him gently. He was just a boy, about Lucy's age, and he looked absolutely petrified at her presence. 'What's your name?'

'My name, Your Majesty?'

'Yes. Your name.'

'It's…Tomas.'

'Thomas?'

'Tomaas,' he corrected her before remembering he was correcting a Queen of Narnia and she could very well call him whatever she wants. However, the Queen, delighted by his charm, laughed and repeated his name exactly as he pronounced it.

'Well, Tomaas,' she grinned at his contrite face. 'May I borrow a horse? I would like to go for a morning ride.'

'Where will you be going, Your Majesty?' Tomas bit his lip, belatedly realizing that he probably shouldn't have questioned the Queen. 'Beg your pardon, I shouldn't have-'

'No matter.' She smiled. 'I simply wished to do some exploring. It's been a while since I've been back,' she explained.

He nodded eagerly, ears almost flattened back in his enthusiasm. 'I know.'

'So…may I borrow a horse, please?' Susan prodded him when his wide eyed gaze never wavered.

Tomas appeared startled and then scrambled past Susan, almost knocking her over in his haste. 'You may borrow any and all of the horses in here, Your Majesty,' he said as he strode past the horses who eyed him with indifference. 'Here's Apollo,' he gestured at a magnificent purebred Arabian with lustrous chestnut coat. The horse whinnied softly, nudging his head against Tomas' outstretched hand. 'He's a good boy, smart but he's rather officious. He'll lead you where he wants to go.' Tomas produced an apple from his pocket and Knight snapped it up, chewing contentedly. Susan smiled, feeling oddly at home in the stables. 'And this one,' Tomas moved to the neighbouring stable, an apple already in his hand. 'This girl here is Hera.' Hera was a regal Andalusian horse whose white coat gleamed even in the dim light of the stable. At their approach, Hera tossed her pure snow mane. 'She likes to show-off,' Tomas informed Susan. His tone was coloured with disapproval but Susan saw the adoring smile the boy held for this magnificent creature. 'Here you go, princess,' he whispered softly, holding the apple up. Hera lowered her head and held the apple in her mouth.

 _She even eats gracefully_ , Susan noted with amusement.

'She's rather spoiled,' Tomas confided to Susan, eyes twinkling mischievously. 'The King loves her best, after his own mount of course, and she's got it in her head that she's a Queen.'

'She looks like a Queen,' Susan replied, ignoring Caspian's title in the conversation. 'In fact, she seems better at being Queen than I was.'

'Oh, no. She's not as beautiful as you are,' Tomas replied casually. The tips of his ears turned pink and he whirled around. 'What I meant was…she's a horse and you're…' He swallowed nervously.

'Human?'

'Yes! A very beautiful…human…woman.' He sighed and cast his eyes dejectedly to the ground. 'I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I'm not usually this…tactless.'

'It's alright, Tomas. It happens.' She walked past him and eyed the stallion in the next stall. Its coat was a gleaming brown; its mane ink black. Its eyes watched her with a strange intelligence as Susan approached the wooden door separating the horse from her. Tomas was saying something behind her, something about Hera, but Susan could only gaze deep into the horse's black eyes. Flashes of the cave, of Lucy clutching her cape, of Caspian fastening the saddle, Caspian gazing up at her with those beseeching brown eyes, _Destrier has always served me well_ , Telmarines chasing her…

'What's his name?' she whispered.

'Your Majesty?'

'This beauty.' She reached a hand up and the horse bent its head gently, allowing Susan to stroke its head. Tears burned behind her eyes at the sudden surge of nostalgia, of a past she wished she never had, yet yearned to relive. 'What's his name?'

'Destrier.'

Susan froze and refused to turn around at that familiar voice. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Tomas turn and sink down on his knee in reverence.

'Your Majesty,' Tomas murmured. 'I apologise for not noticing your presence. I wasn't aware-'

'It's alright, Tomas. At ease.' Caspian walked into the stable and patted the boy's shoulder convivially. 'I simply wished to check up on the horses.' He paused, noting Susan's stiff posture and the hurried movements of her hands as she brushed her eyes.

'They're in excellent condition, Your Majesty. I have been experimenting with a particular mix of fodder for the horses, one my father often practiced back home. You can see the new gleam in their coats, Your Majesty, and I…' Checking himself, Tomas frowned and ceased his enthusiastic chatter. 'Apologies, Your Majesty. I was rambling.'

'Tomas, the horses appear in better condition than they have in years. You have every right to ramble about your achievement.' Tomas puffed his chest, proud at this precious royal compliment, and Caspian once more glanced at the silent Queen. 'Destrier seems to have especially benefitted from this new feed of yours. Wouldn't you agree, Queen Susan?'

 _Caught between a rock and a hard place._ She could ignore him and choose another horse, but that would seem amiss and she didn't trust Tomas enough to know with absolute certainty that he wouldn't carry that piece of juicy gossip back to the castle. Ignoring Caspian during dinner was one thing. There were always other people to distract her, other stories to listen to, other jokes to laugh at. No one would think her behavior towards the King out of place. No one would even notice, save her eagle-eyed siblings. Here, there was only her and Caspian. And Tomas, of course. Susan would have to measure her words if she did not wish to create a scandal and inspire hushed whispers about her relationship with the King.

'I'm afraid I can't comment on Destrier's improvement, Your Majesty,' she demurred, keeping her eyes on the magnificent creature so as to avoid Caspian's intense gaze. 'I haven't a clue about his previous condition.'

'But you've ridden him before,' Caspian pressed, desperation coloring his voice. 'He took you away from Aslan's How, during the battle, when you went to search for Aslan. Remember?' His brown eyes were wide and pleaded silently with her to remember those last moments they had together, those last moments when he tried to siphon every ounce of happiness he felt at simply being with her, even when the stink of war surrounded them.

Caspian saw in that next instant that he'd pushed her too hard. Her blue eyes, as endless as the Eastern Ocean, darkened imperceptibly.

'I'm only human, Your Majesty,' Susan replied, coolly gracious. 'A lot has happened since that battle and I'm afraid I've grown…forgetful of that period.' She glanced at Tomas and the poor boy looked stunned and confused at the tense exchange between the Queen of Old and the King of Narnia. 'Might I borrow Hera?'

Destrier snorted and stamped his hooves as though he understood and disapproved of Susan's choice. Tomas, seized between standing by his King and befriending the beautiful Queen, glanced nervously at Caspian.

'Your Majesty?' Tomas finally prodded the King when the silence became too uncomfortable. Caspian nodded stiffly and much to Susan's surprise and alarm, he brushed the boy aside to help her with the saddle. Susan gripped the leather reins nervously and refused to look down at him. The scene was too much like that last time.

'Won't you take Destrier instead?' he asked her softly as he fastened the last buckle.

'No, thank you,' she declined politely. She'd gone too far, she realized, with her last comment and in front of a stranger, no less! 'I find myself in need of some female friendship,' she joked, and Caspian's eyes brightened with confused delight.

'Well…' he paused, awkward now. 'Be safe. Don't go too fast. Hera has a tendency to ignore the rider's speed and-'

'I'll be fine, Caspian,' she threw over her shoulder as Tomas led the horse out of the stable. 'I'll be back by lunchtime. Tell the others I've gone!'

Caspian watched her ride away, trying to shake off the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. She couldn't leave, could she? Not without her siblings. No, she wouldn't. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that Susan was finally warming up to him, that the familiarity in her voice as she rode away was a sign that she might welcome him now. Tomas chose that moment to rush back to him and Caspian was reminded of the reason behind her familiarity.

It was all for show, her joke about Hera, calling him by his name instead of his title, talking to him like an old friend would. She didn't want the boy to spread gossip and speculation about their relationship, or lack of, and she'd put on a show. He almost believed her.

For the first time since they were reunited, or even for the first time since they met those years ago, Caspian could feel the ugly stirrings of anger.


	10. Chapter 10

Apologies for the unforgivably long delay in updating this story. Uni and the fearsome writer's block got the better of me. Hopefully, I'll have some more chapters posted in the next couple of weeks.

* * *

Morning dew brushed her face as Susan rode away from the castle. The guards manning the gate hastened to draw the portcullis up. At the bridge, Susan paused, gently tugging Hera's leather reins, and gazed up at the towering castle.

It was an imposing structure, all pointy arches, roughly-hewn stones and sharp spires. She'd never told Caspian this, and certainly never saw the need to, but she disliked the castle. There was nothing gentle or welcoming about it. The structures were pressed together and spiraled spitefully upwards in a way that slowly began to suffocate her. It was pure Telmarine architecture at work, built for battle and absent any of the gentle curves and open spaces of Cair Paravel.

 _Good thing it was_ , Susan mused bitterly as she urged Hera into a fast gallop. _Look what happened to Cair Paravel._

As she sped past, trees bowed their majestic trunks to her, respectfully lifting their branches so as to not accidentally snag her hair or her cloak. Some bearing flowers and fruits waved at her, offering their fresh produce that Hera was only too eager to accept. Susan laughed, slowing down enough to return their greetings and stuff some of the proffered apples and juicy peaches into her satchel. Petals rained over her, catching in her hair and stroking her skin tenderly with their softness. She could just barely pick up the soft singing in the wind as they rejoiced her return. _Sister_ , they called her. Not Your Majesty, not Queen Susan. _Sister_.

A green dryad peeked out of her tree and shyly approached the Queen to place a crown of cherry blossoms on Susan's head.

 _Welcome home, sister_. The dryad inclined her head, right hand pressed to her heart. Among centaurs, this was a somber gesture, a sign of death, of passing. But for the tree spirits, this was a sign of utmost respect and recognition of their own kind. Touched, Susan returned the gesture. Encouraged by their compatriot, other spirits began materializing out of the trees, bearing crowns made of the leaves or flowers of their trees. Susan watched with amusement as they carefully hung similar crowns on Hera's pointed ears and joined the dryads' peals of delighted laughter when Hera raised her head, looking for all the world like a regal queen accepting her citizens' gifts.

'We thought you wouldn't ever return,' an elm tree dryad whispered in her ear.

'I thought I'd never return, too!' she replied. 'But I'm back!' She raised her hands to the open sky above her. 'I'm back,' she shouted. She felt giddy, childlike, reverted to little Susan Pevensie who first stepped through the wardrobe. Little Susan Pevensie who never knew pain or heartbreak, who curled her dark hair so she'd look as beautiful as her mother, who lived inside the fairytales of her well-thumbed books and entertained herself with fantasies of handsome princes and towering castles.

 _Got what you wanted, didn't you?_ A nasty voice mocked her and Susan's grip on Hera's reins slipped. The horse threw her a glance and neighed, as if sensing Susan's distress.

 _No, you don't exist._

 _Then why are you responding to me?_

'Come on, Hera,' Susan said aloud, ignoring the little snigger that rattled around her brain. 'Let's get on to Cair Paravel.'

* * *

'Can I help you with anything else, Your Majesty?' Tomas hovered uncertainly by his side as Caspian squinted into the distance where Susan had disappeared. His hands were clenched into fists by his side.

'Did she tell you where she's going, Tomas?'

'No. No, Your Majesty.' Ever loose with his words, Tomas followed the line of his intense gaze and the young man's strange grey eyes grew wistful. 'She is a lovely Queen, is she not?'

Caspian stared at the boy in disbelief. Had he really said that, and in his presence? His hackles rose as he recalled the friendly and familiar way Tomas had spoken to Susan, as Caspian watched them silently from the stable door. Hell, the boy had received more of Susan's smiles in those few moments than Caspian had in the past few days he'd been in her presence.

'And the younger Queen is just as lovely, like the damsels those troubadours sing about,' the boy continued dreamily, his features soft with unconcealed affection and oblivious to his King's presence.

 _What's this?_ The disbelief on Caspian's face grew and disappeared into sly plotting. No, it appears he did not have competition for Susan's hand. He had in front of him a kindred spirit, someone who also fell under the female Pevensies' spell, and a useful ally and shield for him from the male Pevensies.

He examined the boy covertly, who was on the cusp of adulthood, just as Lucy was blossoming into a beautiful young lady. Tomas inherited his father's tan Telmarine coloring, and his mother's Narnian grey eyes stood out against his bronzed complexion. Caspian supposed the boy was good-looking, now that he was no longer a threat. He didn't imagine the boy had much opportunity to talk to Lucy. Tomas was a stable-boy and lowly soldier, not even a ranked one at that, and would be seated far away from the high table during dinner. While Lucy and the other Pevensies often made rounds during dinner, he doubted Lucy would dare venture into the corner table that was full of rowdy soldiers. Peter and Edmund might have crossed paths with Tomas, might have even enjoyed a drink or two with him and other fellow soldiers, but Lucy wouldn't be familiar with him.

'Queen Lucy will be up now, looking for breakfast and her sister,' Caspian said conversationally and watched the boy's cheeks redden at the name. 'I prefer going to inform her of Queen Susan's whereabouts myself, but my attentions are needed elsewhere. The lords will be waiting for me at the Grand Hall.' He shook out an imaginary lint from his tunic, making a show of frowning at this inconvenient false appointment. 'Would you go relay my message, Tomas?'

The boy clutched the dandy brush in his hands. 'Your Majesty?'

'She'll be wondering about Su- Queen Susan,' Caspian repeated patiently. 'Will you let her know that Her Majesty's gone for a ride and will be back for lunch?' Tomas straightened his spine and pulled anxiously at his ragged tunic. 'I've to meet the Lords now, but thank you, Tomas.' He patted the boy's stiff shoulder and walked out of the stables, whistling as he went. He could hear the boy scrambling to tidy the stable and lock up. The horses whinnied, annoyed by Tomas' sudden departure and Caspian had to hide a smile.

* * *

The first thing Lucy did upon waking up was to check the space beside her on the bed. When her hands encountered sheets, cool and silky to her touch, the warning bells in her head had her bolting up and tumbling off the bed in her haste to sit up. Swathed in yards of billowing silk and lace, Lucy's eyes darted wildly around the empty chamber.

 _No Susan? Dear, God. No Susan._

Lucy struggled to free herself off the tangled blanket and crawled sluggishly towards the porcelain washbasin. Her hands shook with nerves and sleep. Water splashed clumsily out of the pitcher and onto her robe. Frustrated, Lucy gave her face a desultory wipe and tugged on the satin ribbon around her neck. A knock on the door had her pausing warily, arms raised above her head in the act of pulling her night robe off. When the second knock came and the door remained closed, Lucy dropped her arms and let the robe slide down slowly.

'Your…Majesty?'

Her forehead creased in confusion. 'Who is it?'

'It's…ah…it is Tomas, Your Majesty.'

Puzzled, Lucy approached the door cautiously and paused feet away from it. _Tomas?_ Lucy frowned and tried to match a face to the name and the pleasantly male voice. Could it be one of the soldiers? Had Caspian sent them to fetch her? _Is it about Susan?_ This last thought spurred her into action. 'You may enter.'

The door creaked open painfully slowly and a head of unruly black hair peeked in. Their eyes met, her blue ones settling steadily on his wide grey orbs, and the strangest thing happened.

He blushed.

Lucy watched, fascinated, as the pink flush in his tanned cheeks spread to his ears, the tips showing through locks of jet-black hair, and down to his equally tanned neck.

'Are you alright?' Concerned, Lucy began to walk towards him. 'Are you feeling well?' She was close enough now to see that the pink flush had reddened to an almost feverish shade. He was rather tall, almost as tall as Peter, and she had to rise up on her tiptoes to lay her palm on his forehead. His gaze slid down to meet hers.

It was oddly unnerving, that second meeting of their eyes. Lucy could feel her cheeks warming from the sudden rush of blood that heated her skin. A part of her mind, a detached part of her mind, observed the amusing and almost ridiculous setting of the tableau. The two of them standing so motionless that they could be mistaken for statues, were it not for the identical red blush spread all over their skin. Another part of her mind, the part that couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, marveled at the warmth of his skin and in his brilliant grey eyes. A lock of dark hair fell over those eyes and Lucy's scrambled brain had the sudden urge to brush that errant lock back.

'If-' Lucy blurted out. He flinched, whether at the sudden loudness of her voice or the way she jerked her hand back, she didn't know and didn't care to find out. 'If you're not feeling well,' she continued, stepping away from him. Inside the long sleeves of her robe, her hands were clenched into fists. 'I can produce a…a…' _What would you produce?_ 'A medicine for you.'

'A medicine?'

'Yes, a medicine.' Her tone was unintentionally harsh and she smiled, trying to lighten the air. 'I _am_ a healer, you know.'

'Of course, you are,' he replied, nodding enthusiastically and forgetting his proper speech. 'I knew that. I've seen you working with Cloudbirth, mixing up this and that, and healing Ronan the other day when he ate that bad stew. Would've let him be, if I were you. Spewing his guts all over the castle rushes as he was. He needs to learn his lesson. That oaf eats whatever he sees. Did you know, once, he even tried to eat…' Tomas trailed into silence at the sight of the amused smile on Lucy's face. _By all the Gods_ , he thought dreamily. _She is incredibly, incredibly beautiful._

'Well?'

'What?'

'What did he try to eat?'

'Who?'

'Ronan! What did he try to eat?'

 _Yes, you dolt. What did he try to eat?_ 'I…can't say,' Tomas replied slowly. For someone who had been rambling on and on, he was suddenly struck speechless.

'Is it so horrible that you can't tell me?'

'It's…not meant for a lady's ears,' he explained pathetically.

Lucy scoffed, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms on her chest. 'Tell me and I'll _try_ not to faint.'

'Yes, do tell her.' Lucy's arms fell limply to her sides as she whirled around to face that dreadfully familiar voice. Peter peeled himself from the wall he was leaning so casually on and walked towards them. He raised his eyebrows at Lucy in acknowledgement before turning his inscrutable blue eyes on Tomas. 'I'm positively squirming from the anticipation,' he quipped drily.

'Peter-'

'Your Majesty.' Tomas hastily dropped to one knee.

'What's your name, soldier?' Lucy stiffened, recognizing the coldly imperious tone in Peter's voice. Very rarely did he use that voice that in the moments when he did use them, Lucy knew without a doubt that Peter the High King was here and he was not to be trifled with.

'Tomas, Your Majesty.' His reply was so subdued, so far removed from the man who had been chatting freely about Ronan's sick, that Lucy instantly felt pity for this victim of Peter's unexplained ire.

'And why were you in the Queen's chamber?'

'Peter, for God's sake-'

'Lucy, I'm talking to the boy,' Peter replied stiffly.

'Talk to him while he's on his feet,' Lucy retorted. Kneeling down, she closed her hands around Tomas' forearm and pulled. To her surprise, he resisted her feeble tugging and fixed pleading grey eyes on her as if to say _Don't make this worse_. 'Please, stand up,' she whispered. 'I'm commanding you.'

Shakily, Tomas rose to his feet as Peter watched dispassionately. 'Well? I asked you a question, soldier.' Peter's eyes flicked coolly to the worn military emblem on Tomas' tunic. 'You do belong to Caspian's army, do you not?'

'I do, Your Majesty.' Clearing his throat, Tomas kept his eyes on Lucy. It was easy to forget about the High King standing in front of him, about anything in the world, really, when he looked into those warm blue eyes. 'I was told to deliver a message to Queen Lucy on the King's behalf. It's about Queen Susan. She's gone out for a morning ride and she wanted the King to tell you that she will be back by lunchtime, but the King had to meet the Telmarine Lords, you see, and I was the only one around at that time, so he told me to go and deliver the message to you. See, the Queen thought you might be worried about her when you wake and find her gone. The King would've gone and told you this himself but he had a-'

'Yes, a meeting with the Lords,' Peter interrupted bluntly. 'So you say.' He closed his hand around Lucy's shoulder and subtly began nudging her into the bedchamber and away from Tomas. 'Was that all?'

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'Then, you're dismissed. Queen Lucy, a word? In private?'

'Thank you-' Lucy managed to get out before the door shut on Tomas' crestfallen face.


	11. Chapter 11

Hi all! First of all, massive thank you to those who still keep up with this fic. I realise that it has been too long since the last update but life got in the way, as it has a habit of doing. Now that exams are over and summer holidays have officially started for me, I finally have time to sit down and focus on creative writing. Heads up for the next three months though: I'll be spending summer somewhere without good internet access and posting new stories will be a bit of a challenge but I will find a way \o/

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

* * *

'I don't know how I'd explain this, Hera,' Susan mused wryly as she gazed down at her dress. The previously pristine rose silk skirt was wrinkled and slightly stiff from her frolic in the shallows of the Eastern Ocean. Here and there, tears and dirt smudges marred the beautiful material. Her dusky sable riding cloak had fared even worse, even though she had abandoned the velvet confection before dunking herself into the waters. 'I suppose I could always tell them the truth.' The truth that rational, practical Susan had been seized by the sudden urge to swim in the Eastern Ocean and did exactly that. That afterwards, while Cair Paravel was devoid of the usual crowd of stonemasons and ironmongers Caspian hired to restore the dwelling, she had organized an impromptu scavenger hunt with the tree spirits.

 _Three pinecones_ , the list dictated, _two green apples, two red apples,_ _a loose gem from the Fount of Sirens, a sprig of rosemary from Queen Lucy's herb garden, a piece from King Edmund's chess set, a miniature tapestry from High King Peter's armory._

'Not too much, is it?' Susan consulted Hera as she drew up the list. Somehow, Hera had appointed herself Susan's right-hand woman, jostling the crowding dryads out of the way and assuming her rightful position by Susan's right shoulder. Hera blew her breath softly and shook her glorious mane, as if trying to convey her disapproval at the inadequacy of the list. 'Right you are, my lady,' Susan joked and hastily scrawled a caveat at the bottom of the list. 'Any participant who inflicts some measure of permanent damage to Cair Paravel shall be disqualified from the treasure hunt. Better?' Hera blinked lazily and folded her equine limbs under her body.

'What shall the victor receive as a prize, Your Majesty?' a dryad inquired excitedly as they perused the list.

'A prize? Oh, I hadn't thought of that.' Susan fished around the leather satchel slung carelessly across her body and triumphantly dug out a handkerchief. Edmund's handkerchief, to be exact, judging by the discreetly stitched E.P in the corner of the square material. _Oh crud! Is this Ed's satchel?_ 'The winner of the hunt shall receive King Edmund's handkerchief,' she announced gleefully, waving the shoddy bit of cloth like a ringmaster would wave in his performers. The dryads giggled, excited at the prospect of possessing a bit of the dashing King Edmund, and raced to find their treasures.

Exhaling heavily, Susan sank down onto the grass beside Hera and examined the leather satchel. Her fingers lifted the flap and peered at the small, barely distinguishable mark on the leather. E.P. How like Edmund to have his initials stamped on everything. 'He wouldn't mind, would he, Hera?' Susan wondered. 'I don't think he'd miss the handkerchief but I don't know about the satchel.' There was already a small tear in the leather that was definitely not there earlier. 'Edmund's so horribly particular about his possessions.'

Now, having bestowed Edmund's priceless handkerchief to a willow tree dryad and divesting the apples from the search among the tree spirits and Hera, Susan carefully arranged the other finds into the satchel, taking extra care not to crush Lucy's rosemary.

'I suppose they'll think I've lost my mind again,' Susan wondered out loud. 'And I suppose it's true. There's something about Narnia, Hera. The entire country has driven all sane thought to the back of my head. I'd never be this careless with my clothes if I were back in London. Well, these are Caspian's clothes, I suppose. Maybe that's the reason why I don't mind ruining them,' she muttered. Hera snorted and Susan grinned at this display of female support. 'I know I keep telling Lucy that we shouldn't stay here, but I don't mean it. Well, I don't always mean it,' she corrected herself. 'If we have to leave Narnia again, I'd be even more devastated this time. I'd miss…I'd miss everything.' At Hera's nudge, Susan smiled and reached down to share her last apple. 'Of course, I'd miss you too. I would bring you to London with me, but I'm afraid I'd have to surrender you to Scotland Yard.'

The drawbridge leading to the Castle of Caspian slowly stretched out beyond the trees and Susan halted, dread sinking into her stomach.

'It would be so easy,' she whispered. 'It would be so easy to leave and run away. Imagine, living all by myself, away from everyone else. No one to convince, no one to please. Not having to reassure people that I'm fine all the damn time.' Hera shifted her hooves uneasily and Susan shook her head, banishing the dark thoughts that came so close to consuming her. She reached down, fetching another apple from her satchel and tossing it to the horse who caught it deftly between her teeth. 'We could live in the forests, right by the orchards, and you could have all the apples you want. Wouldn't that be grand?' The bridge stretched out interminably before her, an ill-omen of lay waiting for her beyond those morose castle walls. Her grip tightened on the reins but the satchel that rested on her hip and was weighed down by Peter's tapestries, Edmund's chess pieces and what remained of Lucy's herb garden, reminded her why she had to stay.

* * *

'How dare you send him away like that!' Lucy raged, pushing Peter's unyielding hand off her shoulder. 'You were unforgivably rude-'

'I was being sensible and exceedingly polite,' Peter countered. 'A strange man was in my sister's room, without a lady's maid or a chaperone around, might I add. The two of you were standing so close together, I wondered if you could breathe!'

'You're being ridiculous,' Lucy snapped, peeved at this exaggeration. 'I was simply checking if he had a fever and if he needed some medication. His color was running high.'

'Oh, of course!' Peter threw his hands up in frustration. 'Of course, you were. Well, would you like to know what I think?'

'Do I have a choice?'

'Fevers or…or preposterous medications were the last thing on his mind, Lucy Pevensie!' Peter exploded. 'As your eldest brother, I forbid you from talking to him ever again-'

'Peter!'

'You are not to talk to him, glance at him or even be in the same room as that boy. Do you understand?'

'Do I have to eat dinner in my room, then?'

Flustered, Peter grasped desperately for a sound reply. 'Well, dinner…dinners can't be avoided, I suppose. I will allow those. But you are not to approach his table during dinner. I absolutely forbid any sort of communication between the two of you.'

'Why not?'

'A man who dares approach the Queen's chambers while she is all alone is not to be trusted.'

'Queen's chambers?' Lucy stared at Peter, at the flushed rage in his cheeks. For a High King, Peter never truly believed in ranks and stations. He was a staunch believer of equality and never sought to impose his superior status on any of his subjects, except when the situation demanded it. 'Peter, is it because Tomas is a soldier?'

'Of course not.'

'Because you never bothered with us being Kings and Queens before this.'

'Lucy-'

'I saw his insignia, Peter. I know Tomas isn't a ranked soldier. Would you still have minded if he was a General, a Captain?'

'Lucy, please. Listen to me.' The quiet exhaustion in Peter's voice had her halting her outburst. 'This has nothing to do with his position. I don't care about all that. You know I don't.' Exhaling heavily, Peter wandered towards an intricately carved wooden trunk and sat down, shoulder drooped wearily as though the weight of the world was bearing down on him. 'One day, we'll have to leave Narnia for good. One day, you'll have to accept that this cannot be the real world for us. I don't want you to form any…attachments here because it will be much more difficult for you when we leave. Do you see what I'm trying to say here, Lu?' His hands were spread palms-up in front of him, silently begging her to understand.

'You don't want what happened to Susan to happen to me,' Lucy whispered. Peter nodded and patted the space beside him. Sighing, Lucy sat down and rested her head on his shoulder. 'It won't, you know. I barely even know Tomas and I _certainly_ never said I liked him,' she continued smartly.

'Well, I can't say the same for that boy.'

'Tomas.'

Peter grunted. 'I know you're grown up now and you'd like to meet someone, and fall in love and get married or whatever it is that you women dream about-'

'It's not just _women_ who dream about those things, I'll have you know.'

'Duly noted. You'll meet a good man in London, Lu,' Peter murmured. 'Or Scotland or Wales or wherever it is you'll be gallivanting off to when you leave home. But...not here , Lucy. Anywhere but here.' Lucy stifled a sob. Here, in her brother's arms, Lucy was suddenly nine and Peter was comforting her after a particularly nasty tumble from her bicycle. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

'Good men in London? Peter, you ask for the impossible,' Lucy joked weakly, yelping obligingly when he playfully tugged a lock of her hair. 'Did you really mean it when you said I couldn't talk to him?'

'Yes.' He drew back and narrowed his eyes at her. 'Why?'

'Well, it's just that…' Lucy fiddled with a loose thread on her robe. 'I rather enjoyed talking to him.'

'And?'

'And…well, it's rather nice to talk to someone my own age. It gets rather lonely around here. Everyone is either older or younger than me.'

'Lu, do you know what's _rather_ fascinating?'

'Hm?'

'When you lie, you use the word 'rather' a lot.'

Lucy frowned in confusion but as his words began to sink in, blood rushed to her face. 'I'm not lying!' she denied hotly. 'It's true! It does get rather- get lonely without having anybody my age to talk to.'

'Lu, I know I can't stop you from doing whatever you want. God knows not even Mama could force you into a dress and make you go to church on Sundays with the rest of us poor souls-'

'I hate stuffy dresses and long sermons,' Lucy muttered.

'So we both know full well that I could forbid you from talking to him, from even breathing the same air as him, but you'd do it anyway. Am I wrong?' Peter raised an eyebrow, daring her to contradict him. Lucy opened her mouth, a witty remark already forming on her lips, but she thought better of challenging Peter and simply shook her head. 'Well, then, there isn't much I can do, is there?' Another vigorous shake of her head. 'Then, I suppose I'll have to rescind my earlier ban, correct?' This time, an animated nod. 'Why, Lu. Nothing to say? Are you rendered so speechless by my generosity?'

Lucy snorted and shoved his shoulder, sending him scrabbling clumsily off the trunk and onto the finely woven carpet. 'Would the generous High King please see himself out of my chambers? I have a luncheon to attend.'

'Right, right.' Peter raised his hands in surrender as Lucy prodded him in the back, pushing him towards the door. Just as the heavy door slid slowly shut, Peter stuck his foot in the small gap and peered at Lucy. 'Lu? About what I said? What we talked about in there?'

'Yes?'

'Don't tell Su. She doesn't…she hates it when I worry.'

Lucy bit her lower lip, nervously casting her gaze over Peter's shoulder as though afraid that Susan would suddenly appear. 'Alright, I won't.'


	12. Chapter 12

'Do I want to know?'

Susan shifted the leather strap on Edmund's satchel, hiding it from the disinterested eyes of its owner. 'No.'

Edmund's gaze travelled over the sorry state of her dress and rested on her hair, where bits of flowers, leaves and short twigs were caught between the strands. 'I didn't realise plants are the trend nowadays.'

'Of course you didn't,' Susan sniffed. 'You're a man.' She rooted around the satchel, locating the luminous chess pieces among the other tokens of her hunt.

'Su, is that- is that my satchel?' Edmund shifted the scrolls in his hands, trapping them against his side and narrowing his eyes at the bag. 'It is my satchel, isn't it? Why have you got my satchel? Did you break it? Su, I see a tear in the leather-'

'Oh, hush.' Susan held her cupped palms out and the pure gold chess pieces glinted in the glaring sunlight. 'Here.'

'What are those?'

'They're chess pieces, Ed. Golden ones, too.' Susan replied patiently.

'No, I know that.' Edmund stretched a hand out, fingers hovering cautiously over the pieces. 'Aren't those…They're mine, aren't they? Why do you have them?'

'I rode to Cair Paravel this morning,' Susan explained. 'The dryads helped me look for these.'

Edmund's eyes grew wistful as he picked up a golden pawn. 'Our old home?'

Susan nodded, smiling at the boyish glee and longing in his eyes. 'Our old home.'

'Speaking of Cair Paravel.' Edmund slipped the chess piece into the frayed pocket of his tunic and took a scroll from his side, spreading it open. 'Look.' Susan pursed her lips and examined the complex maze of lines and curves drawn in ink on the parchment. Here and there, brief notes and comments were scrawled in small, spidery script that she had no difficulty recognizing, not when she has committed to heart and memory a poem dedicated to her and written in that same handwriting by a certain King. 'Caspian's done a wonderful work on the plans for Cair Paravel,' Edmund was saying in front of her as he held the design open. 'He even did the sketches on these himself,' he mused, oblivious to his sister's discomfort. 'Did you know he could draw?'

Susan recalled the sketch he made of her, one that showed her poised with her bow and arrow notched and aimed at an unseen target. It was a beautiful sketch; made on a plain scrap of parchment he must have found lying around during their time hiding from Miraz's forces. Carefully avoiding looking at the plan, Susan smiled blandly. 'No, I didn't know that.'

'Neither did I!' Edmund exclaimed, still marveling over the plan. He tilted the parchment at a different angle as if to get a better look at it and Susan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 'I thought his cartographer had charted it for him but Trumpkin told me otherwise.'

'Where is he?' Susan piped up. 'Trumpkin?'

Edmund jerked his head vaguely to his right. 'There. By the crates. We've been discussing the new plans for Cair Paravel all morning.'

Susan looked up at his indication and felt her stomach clench. Sure enough, Trumpkin was there, but it was the man beside him who caught her attention. With his arms crossed on his chest, his head bent in thought and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tanned forearms, Susan could not remember precisely what her aversion to him was. She watched furtively as one of his guards approached him, bending down to whisper something in his ear.

Suddenly, he looked up sharply. His gaze, naked with vulnerable concern and shock, met hers and Susan drew back. To her horror, he sat up from the tree stump he had been sitting on and started walking towards her. All the while, his eyes never left her and Susan watched, mesmerized, as he strode purposefully, every inch the King, across the thankfully wide courtyard. A thrill rushed through her as a light breeze stirred his beautifully tousled hair and ruffled the plain tunic and trousers he wore.

Susan shook her head, rousing herself from the disturbing hypnotic effect he spun around her. 'Here.' She shoved the rest of Edmund's chess pieces into his open palm. 'Those are all I could get. I'm going to go give Peter his things.' She turned away from him, away from Caspian who seemed to have covered a ridiculous length of the courtyard in that short time she wasted ogling him.

'Pete's out training with the soldiers in the fields,' Edmund piped up, turning the chess pieces in his hands and utterly oblivious to her distress. 'Might not be back anytime soon.'

'I'll go see Lu, then,' she replied desperately. Caspian was close now and Susan turned around, almost running towards the tall castle doors.

'Susan!' Caspian was running now, sprinting past Edmund and ignoring the looks thrown his way. One of his guards had come up to him just a short while ago, informing him that Queen Susan had finally returned and delicately mentioned the distressed state of her dress. He looked up then and met her eyes across the castle courtyard. His eyes went to her disheveled hair, the obvious tears in the new dress he'd acquired for her, and his hands clenched into fists. The next thing he knew, he was striding across the courtyard towards Susan while his mind ran rampant with ideas of how to punish whoever hurt her. A good dip in the Eastern Ocean perhaps, with rocks tied to this faceless man's ankles. Or a good long life stint in the solitary prison tower. Or perhaps he could just pound this stranger's face into pulp with his own hands. 'Susan!' He was close enough now to grab her by her sleeve and pull her to a stop. 'Susan!'

'What?' she snapped, whirling around angrily.

He opened his mouth but his gaze suddenly slid down to her shoulder and he blushed, his words dying on his lips. Frowning, he averted his gaze shyly. 'Your...ah...your sleeve-Sorry...It's-' He gestured at her bare shoulder helplessly.

Susan glared at him and glanced passingly at her shoulder. _What is he on about_ \- Her eyes widened and she tugged her sleeve up her shoulder. She was positive that her cheeks were burning fiercely now. 'Was that all?' she asked him with as much dignity as she could draw from her depleted reserve.

'Ah...no.' Caspian ran a hand through his hair nervously. The dark brown strands seemed almost auburn in the sunlight. 'No. What happened to you?'

Susan frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'What happened to...you?' He gestured vaguely at her dress. 'Did something happen to you while you were out riding? Were you attacked?'

'Honestly, do I look that terrible?' Susan groused, her lower lip sticking out slightly in a pout that she thought she outgrew. 'First the guards look at me like I'm the White Witch and then there's Edmund being Edmund and then you come up here thinking I've been attacked when _all_ that's happened is I've been having fun. A _lot_ of fun.'

Caspian bit back a smile at her unusually belligerent tone and the little pout that looked so adorably out of place on Susan's classically gentle features. 'My apologies, Your Majesty,' he murmured, bowing a little. His eyes flicked up teasingly and Susan blushed. 'I was simply concerned about your well-being,' he explained, wanting to draw their conversation out.

'Well…' Susan rubbed her nose awkwardly. 'Thank you.' She became aware of Edmund hovering some distance behind Caspian, stealing covert glances at them from behind his building plan.

'I was just-'

'Lucy's up at-' Caspian laughed nervously. 'Go on.'

'I was just going to go…visit the kitchens, maybe see if I could scrounge something up for lunch. Seeing as I missed…lunch,' Susan explained pathetically. _Lunch, Susan? That's what's on your mind?_ 'So if you don't mind, I'll just excuse myself.'

'I'll walk you to the kitchens,' Caspian offered hurriedly. 'Trumpkin has been trapping me with building plans since morning.' He grinned down her as he led her to the steps leading up to the castle doors. 'This is a welcome distraction.'

She smiled faintly, looking straight ahead as she walked past him. 'Distraction? Hmm.'

'Your Majesty!' Both Caspian and Susan turned to look as Trumpkin hurried across the courtyard towards them. 'Your Majesty-' he wheezed. 'We still have the building plans to go through-'

Caspian pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Trumpkin-'

'-we really can't afford to take any more breaks-'

'Trumpkin, please-'

'-to finish them up by today for the Lords' perusal-'

'Trumpkin!' The dwarf stared up at him in surprise and Caspian subtly tilted his head towards Susan, who was watching their exchange with an amused smile. 'I'm quite occupied at the moment,' he bit through his teeth. 'This could wait until later, perhaps?'

'Oh, yes.' The dwarf clasped his hands in front of him, assuming a suitably chastened expression. 'Yes, of course. There really is no hurry, Your Majesty. I was simply…exaggerating. As I often do.' He threw Caspian a sly look before retreating, his hands now clasped behind his back. 'Please, Your Majesties,' he called over his shoulder. 'Take your time.'

Caspian exhaled in relief and turned to Susan, flashing a winsome smile. 'The kitchens?'

'Are you certain you have time to spare?' she asked him drily. 'I can find my own way to the kitchen.'

'Of course I have time-'

'Your Majesty!' Camillo burst through the massive wrought iron gates leading to the gardens. 'King Caspian, sir! A moment of your time!' The old centaur galloped up the stone steps and bent his knees generously, bowing his head in greeting to the King and Queen. 'Apologies, Your Majesty, but something in the gardens require your attention.'

'Camillo, can this wait? I'm in the middle of something.'

Susan raised a hand, halting him in the middle of his refusal. 'No, no. Let's hear it. What is it, Camillo?'

'It's the Helenian roses, Your Majesty. King Caspian brought over the remaining plots in the Cair Paravel gardens to this castle when they began rebuilding works and I've been trying to nurture the flowers but-' Here, he paused and dramatically took great gulpfuls of breath. 'I fear my efforts and that of the King's to preserve the last of the roses might have been for naught.' He peered at the King. 'You might want to see the flowers one last time before they disappear forever, sire.'

Caspian blushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 'Camillo, really. Is that necessary? They're just flowers-'

'Would Her Majesty like to come along and take a look?' Camillo asked shrewdly. 'I was informed by a reliable source that these were your favorite flowers.'

Surprised, Susan frowned as she tried to decipher the innocence on the aged centaur's face. 'Were you? And who is this reliable source?'

Camillo shrugged and he turned around, fully expecting the two monarchs to trail behind him. 'Oh, nobody significant. Just that King beside you.'


	13. Chapter 13

'I didn't think you'd remember,' Susan murmured as Camillo led them through the garden. 'Even I forgot about the roses.'

Caspian smiled and lifted a drooping branch out of the way so she could pass. 'I may or may not have exaggerated your admiration of the roses.' They continued slowly behind Camillo, who wisely remained silent. 'It was that night,' he continued quietly. Susan frowned up at him in confusion. 'The night before you…left. After the celebratory feast, I asked you if you would like to walk around the gardens with me.'

Her forehead smoothed in recollection and she smiled fondly. 'And I said yes.'

'And you said yes.'

'And Peter overheard us and insisted he come along to chaperone,' she continued, laughing softly at the memory of Peter, who had been slightly tipsy from the peach wine Trumpkin had allowed him to drink, adamantly insisting he accompanied them while tripping over his words.

'And Lucy overheard him and insisted _she_ come along to ensure Peter didn't drunkenly prick himself to death on a shrub,' Caspian added.

'And Edmund suggested that everyone might as well come along for a walk.' They laughed, catching each other's eyes and looking away shyly.

'That's how I knew you liked the roses at Cair Paravel. Or, assumed you liked the roses,' he amended with a sheepish grin. 'We were walking around here, with Lucy holding the boys back behind us. And we passed these bushes with red flowers in full bloom. They weren't roses, just carnations, but you told me they reminded you of the roses in Cair Paravel. The ones with red so rich and dark, they were veritable rubies of the garden.'

Susan winced and wrinkled her nose in distaste. 'Were those my exact words?'

'Your exact words,' he replied sombrely.

'Goodness, I wasn't much of a poet, was I?' She made a face, comically poking her tongue out. 'Red like rubies. Blech.'

He flashed her a quick grin. 'On the contrary, Your Majesty, your words were most helpful when I stumbled upon them while planning the building works. You see,' he crossed his arms on chest and adopted a casually arrogant look. 'I simply had to fish out one of my spare rubies, hold them up to the roses and I knew that I had finally found them.'

Rolling her eyes, Susan scoffed and absently brushed aside a wayward strand of hair from her face. 'One of your spare rubies?'

'Naturally. I happened to have a few lying around in my pockets. Why?' He frowned at her, the surprise on his face ludicrously exaggerated. 'Don't you?'

Susan burst into peals of delighted and decidedly unqueenly laughter that had Camillo turning his head slightly to check on the youths.

'Everything alright, Your Majesty?' he called over his shoulder, noting how the two monarchs seemed to drift closer towards one another as they walked. 'Not feeling overheated? Should we leave this for another day?'

Susan waved her hand, dismissing his suggestion while subduing her hiccups of laughter. 'Nonsense, Camillo. You've peaked my curiosity and I must see these roses today.'

'Well, then. We're almost there, Your Majesties. Just a few more turns.'

Susan nodded, clearing her throat and quickly composing herself. 'You're being ridiculous,' she muttered.

'What's that, Your Majesty?' Caspian lowered his head towards her, subtly using the gesture to shift closer towards her. 'I didn't quite catch that.'

'You,' she punched his arm, sending him stumbling sideways. 'You're being ridiculous.'

Grinning smugly, he straightened his tunic. 'But I made you laugh. That's always good.' This time, when he caught her gaze, he didn't look away. For that one moment, when it seemed as though time itself was suspended, he allowed himself to fully drink the intoxicating nectar that was her presence. His gaze bore into hers, brown eyes drowning in a sea of sparkling blue, and, entranced by the siren call in her eyes, he leaned towards her. His hand was raised, lightly cupping her soft cheek. 'Susan-'

'Ah! Here we are!' Camillo's booming voice tore through the thickening tension and Caspian registered the shock flaring in Susan's eyes before she jerked away from him. Her cheeks were growing increasingly flushed as she turned away, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. 'I was beginning to think we'd never get here,' Camillo continued loudly, chuckling under his breath at the sight of the sovereigns.

'Wait-' Susan coughed, nervously flicking her hair over her shoulder as she hurried after him, leaving Caspian standing alone in the heavy summer dust. His hand dropped limply to his side and he stared at her retreating figure. Frowning, he kicked the soil, sending pebbles bouncing against a nearby tree and kicking up more dust into the air.

'Stupid,' he muttered angrily. They'd been talking, joking even, comfortably to each other, which was a first since she arrived. No other Pevensies had been around to eavesdrop and Susan was relaxed, not skittish and jittery as she'd been every time he approached her the past few weeks. He had to go and spoil it. Classic. He'd been too eager, too forward, extremely ungentlemanly. _Actually_ , he paused just as he turned around a corner wall of the garden, _Camillo had a hand in spoiling it and he probably did it on purpose, that old centaur_ , Caspian thought sullenly. His palm tingled where it touched her cheek and he held it up, as if expecting to see something there. Maybe an indelible print from the softness and warmth of her skin. _Nothing._ Exhaling heavily, he joined his two companions.

'And you think it might be a problem with the soil?' Susan asked Camillo, intent on focusing all her attention on the centaur. She could feel, rather than see, Caspian approaching them and a light shiver traced down her spine.

'It could be,' Camillo hazarded. 'Though the distance is not vastly great, there is quite a difference between Telmar and Narnian soil. I understand that these roses were also brought over from Earth by the First Queen of Narnia, whose express intention was to have something at Cair Paravel that reminded her of home, so that could be a reason for its decline.'

'First Queen of Narnia?' Susan repeated. 'Do you mean Queen Helen?' Her lips parted in understanding. 'Hence, the name.' She bent down and touched the wilting petals. So the First Queen brought English roses to Narnia.

'Hence, the name,' Camillo repeated. He regarded the dropping rosebush, with its petals blackened at the edges from decay, sadly. 'I have tried every trick known in these lands to revive them but I'm afraid it's not meant to be.' He looked up, beckoning Caspian closer. 'Unless Your Majesty would like to return it to Cair Paravel? Although, with the building works planned, I cannot see the builders watching their step around the plants…'

'Lucy!' Susan piped up and Caspian whirled around, fully expecting to see the youngest Pevensie come creeping up with yet another prank to spring on him. Worms down his back, perhaps. Although, he suspected that lately Lucy's pranks were less for mischief and more for vengeance. 'Lucy could help,' Susan continued excitedly. 'She's a healer, isn't she? And she's worked with plants before. What do you think, Camillo?'

'I'm open to anything that could save these beautiful roses.' He turned to Caspian. 'What does Your Majesty think?'

'Yes, well-' Caspian cleared his throat, casually smoothing his hair and trying not to appear as though he was terrified of a seventeen year old girl terrorizing him. 'I think it's an excellent idea. I'm sure Lucy would- Ah!' He jumped, wriggling and cursing richly as what felt like hundreds of spiders scurried down his back.

'Lucy would what?' Lucy repeated, giggling as she looped her arm through Susan's. A basket of freshly picked herbs and fruits hung from her other arm and she grinned mischievously as she watched Caspian writhe and frantically flap the back of his tunic.

'Are these worms?' Caspian demanded. 'Spiders? Why aren't they moving?'

'Well, they're dead leaves, Your Majesty,' Camillo supplied helpfully.

'Dead leaves?' Caspian stilled and slowly straightened as dozens of dead leaves slowly fluttered down his back, out of his tunic and on to the ground. Under the healthy golden tan, his cheeks were red and burning with mortification. The dead leaves lay harmlessly on the earth, much like the pieces of his manly dignity that he could never salvage, not when Susan has witnessed him at his absolute worst.

'Although, worms would have been better,' Lucy mused thoughtfully, eyeing the dead leaves reproachfully.

'Lu!' Susan chided, nudging her shoulder. 'That's a horrid thing to do and you should apologize to Caspian.'

'Sorry,' Lucy offered half-heartedly.

'It's alright,' Caspian replied, smiling nonchalantly. 'No harm done.' His hand slid to his back surreptitiously, determined to get all the leaves out of his tunic without Susan noticing. 'Certainly one way to announce your arrival.'

Lucy grinned smugly before turning to Susan. 'I heard my name. Did you need my help?' She glanced down at the dying Helenian rosebush. 'Why are we standing solemnly around a wilting plant?'

'Camillo needs your help,' Susan clarified. 'These were taken from Cair Paravel to be preserved,' she elaborated, pointing at the roses. 'But it's not taking well to its new home. I thought you might be able to help.'

Lucy wrinkled her nose as she bent down and touched a blackened petal. 'It's not decaying like normal roses would,' she murmured. 'It's not shriveling, but these petals…' She pinched one delicately between her forefingers and looked up at her rapt audience of three. 'It looks almost burnt, doesn't it?' She scanned the surrounding soil. 'No fallen ashes, either.'

'Quite…' Camillo agreed thoughtfully. 'What does Your Majesty propose?'

Lucy pursed her lips and frowned. 'I can prepare a healing tincture, the ones I normally apply to burns. Might be a bit of a stretch, seeing as I use those on humans but it's worth a try.' She shared a look with Susan. 'Narnia doesn't seem to have the same boring distinction between humans and non-humans that we do on earth.'

'Worth a try,' Susan repeated. 'Do you need help making it?'

'Might,' Lucy replied, rustling through the contents of her basket. 'I'll need some things from the greenhouse. Camillo, do I have your permission to pillage and plunder your greenhouse?'

'To your heart's content, Your Majesty,' Camillo replied grandly.

'Lead the way,' Lucy commanded playfully. 'Su? Caspian? Are you coming with us?'

'Well, we were actually headed for the kitchens,' Susan explained reluctantly and glanced at Caspian. 'Maybe-'

'No, go accompany Lucy. Rein her in if she truly attempts to pillage the conservatory. Camillo will be far too distracted with his children to notice.'

Susan frowned, glancing at Lucy and Camillo's retreating figures. 'His children?'

Chuckling, he bent down, his lips dangerously close to her ear, and whispered cryptically, 'You'll see.'

* * *

'You really should tell him how you feel,' Lucy murmured quietly, her eyes on Camillo as he marched ahead, flamboyantly listing the names and properties of each and every plant they passed in the glasshouse. His children, indeed.

'Who?' Susan eyes darted frantically to Camillo.

'Not Camillo! Goodness, what feelings could you possibly have to tell Camillo about? I was talking about Caspian,' Lucy added in an undertone.

'What about Caspian?'

'You need to tell Caspian how you feel about him, about the two of you, whatever you need to tell him to clear the air,' Lucy replied patiently. 'And stop dragging the poor man around-'

'I am not!' Susan denied hotly.

'You are.' Lucy placed a reassuring hand on Susan's shoulder, smiling at Camillo when he glanced suspiciously at Susan's outburst. 'You don't mean to do it but you are. If you say nothing to discourage him, he'll always be hopeful. If you must let him down, let him down now.' Lucy discreetly broke off a small grape from its vine and quickly popped it in her mouth. Her delicate features quickly twisted in a grimace at the tart explosion of taste.

'There are sweeter ones up here if Your Majesties could move along,' Camillo's voice drifted back towards them.

'Right. Sorry,' Lucy grinned sheepishly. Once Camillo's magnificent silver tresses had disappeared among the greenery, Lucy clutched Susan's arm, halting her in her steps. 'It's been going on too long, Su. You told me you didn't want to encourage him.'

'I still don't but how-' Susan threw her hands up in frustration. 'How do I even begin to tell him…to put into words-' Her wide blue eyes stared desperately at her open palms, as if the answer would be presented to her hands. _To put into words how damaged and broken I am?_

'Tell him you're not ready to…continue what you had before,' Lucy explained delicately. 'That…you'd like to try to be friends with him first and foremost. You didn't really have much time to get to know one another and just be friends before this, what with Miraz roaring for our heads on his sword.'

'That's…' Susan paused and stared at her little sister with amazement. 'That's actually quite good, Lu.'

'You're welcome,' Lucy replied imperiously. 'But you must promise me that you'll talk to him soon.'

'All right, _mother_ , I promise.' Susan snorted and pulled Lucy along, eager to catch up with their guide. 'Really, Lu. Sometimes I wonder if Peter really is the eldest.'

'Sometimes?' Lucy drew herself to her full height smugly. 'All the time, mind you.'


	14. Chapter 14

'You look pensive.'

Susan flinched in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Whirling around, the fact that she was perched precariously on a misshapen slab of stone fled her mind and she found herself stumbling, limbs flailing as she desperately grasped thin air. With a breathless squeak, she landed gracelessly on her behind among the old rushes. Groaning, Susan sat up gingerly and fixed a glare at Caspian, who was bent over laughing and clutching his middle.

'I'm glad you're amused,' she muttered stiffly as she stood up, pointedly ignoring his hand as he offered to help her up. Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment and she turned away from him, busying herself with brushing off the stubborn rushes that clung to her dress.

'I'm sorry,' he chuckled behind her. 'It's incredibly rare to catch the usually composed Queen Susan so off-guard,' he explained, throwing a charming grin her way. 'Allow me my amusements. God knows I don't have much of those anymore,' he murmured self-deprecatingly.

Susan watched him nervously as he braced his forearms against the sill, feeling inexplicably tongue-tied now that she finally knew what she had to say to him. 'How did you know about this place?' she demanded instead.

He cocked his head curiously at her. 'I live here,' he reminded her teasingly.

'Oh, please,' she replied, rolling her eyes. 'I meant, how did you know about this tower? It's a bit of a ways off from the castle, it doesn't look at all disturbed _and_ I've been coming here the past few days without ever running into you.'

'Well, I've actually been coming here the past couple of _years_ ,' he replied smugly. 'This is where I hide from the Lords, from Trumpkin, from their demands…' His words trailed away absently and he quickly shook his head, as if he was trying to rid himself of heavy thoughts. 'As for not running into you here the past few days,' he continued casually, 'I have been rather tied down with Kingly matters. Trumpkin hasn't let me out of his sight longer than two turns of his hourglass.'

'And I suppose you're back to reclaim your sanctuary from me?' Susan asked, crossing her arms on her chest and raising her brows at him in a silent challenge.

He mirrored her stance, a wide grin already spreading across his face. 'If I am?'

'Well, you should know that I never surrender without a fight,' she retorted. 'I've grown rather attached to this tower.'

'And what are you going to fight me with?' he challenged her. Peering comically behind her, he continued, 'I see neither your bow and arrow nor your sword.'

'Do you really think I survived all those years in Narnia as a Queen solely on my weapons?' she countered. 'Arrows run out and swords grow dull, King Caspian. You, of all people, should know this.'

'Ah, so you'll fight me with your bare hands?' He narrowed his eyes in speculation and smirked, further baiting her. 'Interesting.'

He was correct to assume that that silly smirk would get a rise out of her, but he hadn't factored her reaction into his plan. So, to say that he was surprised when he found himself face-down in the dusty rushes with her knee pressed into the small of his back and his wrists firmly locked in her grip would be an understatement.

'Susan-' he wheezed, his words muffled by the stone floor. 'Su-'

'Do you yield?' she teased him, pushing her forearm into the back of his neck.

'Yes,' he rasped. 'Let me stand...'

'Do you yield this tower to me?' she questioned him further, now digging her elbow into the nape of his neck.

'Yield!' Caspian panted. 'I yield everything!'

'Hmm…' Susan purposely lingered over her decision, letting him stew in his pain. 'I accept,' she finally replied grandly. Grinning, she stood up, brushing her hair behind her shoulder smugly as she watched him struggle to sit up.

'I feel-' he began when he finally managed to stand. 'I feel I should let you know that I let you win,' he managed to speak through his ragged breaths. With a concentrated effort, he even managed to summon an indulgent smile. 'I don't fight-'

'Would you like some time to catch your breath?' Susan remarked dryly.

'-women,' he coughed.

'Yes, I'm sure you're telling the truth.' Susan sat down on the stone slab and watched as he gingerly stretched to feel out the sore spots on his body. 'Still, yield is yield and you yielded this tower to me. It's mine now for as long as I want.'

He stilled, his expression suddenly darkening. 'For as long as you want?'

'Well, yes-'

'And what happens when you leave again?' His gaze lowered to meet hers and Susan felt a shiver trail down her spine at the sheer darkness and despair in those expressive brown eyes.

'Then you'll have ownership over it once more,' she replied lightly even though she knew that he wasn't talking about the tower.

He chuckled, but the fun from their previous banter was already long gone. 'I'll…leave you to it then,' he spoke into the tense silence. He turned around, shoulders drooping slightly, and headed for the precarious wooden steps that led to the platform below.

'Wait!' Susan blurted out. 'Are you leaving?'

He turned his head slightly in her direction, but avoided meeting her eyes. 'I thought you wanted it to yourself.'

Susan winced at the connotation behind his words. 'Not now,' she corrected him hastily. 'Please, don't go. Not yet,' she pleaded with him.

This time, he turned around to fully face her. His brows were furrowed in confusion at her plea. 'Why not?'

'I…I'd like to talk to you.'

* * *

'Ed!'

Edmund turned around and eyed Peter suspiciously as he stormed across the training courtyard, sending soldiers skittering to clear his path. 'Yes?' he asked blithely.

'That soldier I sent to you…' Peter paused and rested his hands on his hips. 'The one with the...hair. And the...' Peter waved his hands vaguely.

'The one who could barely keep a grip on his sword?' Edmund supplied helpfully.

'Yes-'

'The one who was tripping over his own feet?'

'Yes, that's the one,' Peter snapped impatiently. 'Where is he?'

'I sent him off to the infirmary,' Edmund informed him.

'Infirmary? Why?'

'Because, Peter, he tripped over his own feet while holding on to his sword,' Edmund replied dryly. At the incensed look on Peter's face, Edmund hurried to add, 'Don't worry. It was just a small scrape. I'm sure Lu can patch him up-'

'Lu? You sent Tomas to Lucy?' Peter loomed over him, eyes wide and hands clenched into fists. 'Lucy? Our youngest sister Lucy? Lucy Pevensie?'

'Unless you've met other Lucys around here, she would be the one I am referring to.' Edmund slid his sword into the scabbard that hung loosely from his hips. 'Peter, what's going on? Who's Tomas?'

Ignoring him, Peter kicked a loose pebble and ran a hand through his hair. 'Should've kept my eyes on him the whole time,' he grumbled to himself under his breath. 'But you promised her you wouldn't interfere! She wanted to make friends-'

'For Aslan's sake, Peter! Will you tell me what's going on?' Edmund demanded just as Caspian strode up to meet them.

'Peter, Edmund,' he muttered tersely. 'A word?'

'Hang on, Caspian,' Edmund dismissed him, grabbing Peter by his shoulders and shaking him forcefully. 'You're just in time to see me knock the lights out of Peter, unless he comes to his senses in the next second.'

'I need to have a word with both of you right now,' Caspian repeated urgently. 'In private.'

Peter blinked, roused from his inner monologue by the determined look on Edmund's face and the fist that seemed to slowly become larger in his field of vision. Yelping, he ducked just as Edmund swung, and swiftly whirled around, capturing Edmund by the collar of his plain tunic. 'What on Earth are you doing?' he shouted. 'Were you about to hit me?'

'Edmund, Peter, please-' Caspian entreated to deaf ears.

'I had to pull you back to Earth,' Edmund replied defensively. 'You were babbling like a lunatic about Lu and about that soldier. Why were you babbling about them?'

'Gentlemen, we are creating quite a scene here,' Caspian interrupted, discreetly pushing the boys away from one another when it became clear that blood would shortly be spilled, especially when they had an abundance of swords and spears close by.

'You shouldn't have sent him off to Lu!' Peter suddenly yelled over Caspian's shoulder as the King held him away from the younger Pevensie. 'We'd have another Susan in our hands!'

The training ground quietened and Caspian abruptly pulled away as the gist of their argument registered. Soldier, Lucy, Tomas, another Susan, him. Lucy, another Susan. Tomas, him. 'I see,' he finally spoke out loud when the silence became far too uncomfortable.

'Caspian, I don't mean it in that way.' Peter hurriedly attempted to remedy the awkward situation. 'I simply meant-'

'No, it's alright,' Caspian replied coolly. Frankly, he was just embarrassed that this entire scandal was playing out in front of his men, all of whom seemed to be enjoying it as though they were watching a captivating tableau. The Legend of the Three Kings, Two Queens of Old and a Soldier. 'Perhaps we should talk about this later, when you have calmed down,' he continued.

Peter clutched his arm, looking guilty as sin. 'No, no. We'll talk now. You have our undivided attention.' He looked to Edmund for support but his brother simply returned his pointed look blankly. It was at this point that an unfortunate herald, unaware of what had passed and oblivious of the strange stillness in the usually chaotic training ground, rushed up towards the three kings.

'Your Majesty,' he declared officiously.

'Yes?' both Peter and Caspian snapped.

The herald's face flushed red with embarrassment and he stammered, 'Your Majesty…King Caspian, sir. A message for you from Lord Drinian.' He stared at the scroll in his hands, momentarily stunned into forgetting why it was in his hands, before hurriedly presenting it to Caspian with excessive flourish.

'Right. Thank you…' Caspian cleared his throat nervously as he tried to recall the name of the red-faced youth who looked like he wished he was anywhere but here. 'Thank you, Erimon. Send Drinian my best. Do see if your Lord would like have supper at the Castle one of these days, if he can pull himself away from the Dawn Treader.'

'I will, Your Majesty.' The boy bowed jerkily and hastened off the training ground.

'Suppose we have that talk now, men,' Edmund cheerily broke the tense silence that followed. 'In private, perhaps?'

* * *

 **So sorry about the delay. I've been wearing my keyboard thin trying to write The Talk between Susan and Caspian and I can't seem to get it right. So I caved in and wrote this filler chapter because I was going _nowhere_ with The Talk. Hope you guys don't mind this little non-update and hopefully, I'll be able to give Susan and Caspian The Talk they both deserve.**


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